


His Irish Angel PT 1: Molly MacQueen

by DavinaCFox



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Action & Romance, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Orgasm Control, Passion, Romance, Sex Talk, Torture, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-07 06:11:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 60,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16848640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DavinaCFox/pseuds/DavinaCFox
Summary: AU fic. Seven years on from the Gotham City war, Penguin is once again king of the underworld, but after losing an eye in the war, the years since have taken their toll on his looks and his fragile confidence and he has given up on ever finding love. Then powerful Irish gangster Kane MacQueen arrives in Gotham with his daughter Molly, to do a business deal with him.Lonely Oswald is drawn to passionate and fearless Molly, who may be his happy ever after if he can summon courage to make a move on her – but as they begin a passionate romance, disaster strikes. Recently escaped Arkham prisoner Jeremiah Velaska is planning to kill Oswald and take his place as king of Gotham. When Oswald is abducted, will Molly MacQueen really be tough enough to stand up to sadistic Velaska and save the man she loves?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers :-) Another AU fic from me - if you have read my trilogy (totally unrelated to this fic) and you liked my OCs like Lilly and Rose, you will love the OCs in this one - especially Molly MacQueen :-) :-) Enjoy the read. Love, Davina :-)
> 
> Please note this is now a two fic series, and Pt2: Blood Ties is currently in progress :-)

Chapter 1

 

As Oswald Cobblepot sat in the office above his recently refurbished Iceberg lounge, he took a moment to look out at the view of the city as he let his thoughts wander:

It had been seven years since the city had burned. He had fought in the battle to save Gotham, and now the city was recovered well and he was once again king of the underworld. But everything came at a price, and the silence in the room only confirmed his loneliness. Ed was still a good friend. But he was happy with Lee Thompkins and had been for the past five years. Any hope that he would get back with Ed had been extinguished long ago. Then there had been Sofia. That name still etched a scar in his heart. Life had always been about loss as far as love was concerned, and he had long ago written off any chance of finding it with someone who would truly care for him. Money and power meant a lot, it had always been his goal, to rule the underworld. But as for the rest? There was nothing, a void, just like the hole he imagined in his heart when the lonely quiet hours became too great to bear.

Oswald got up from his desk, felt a sharp ache run through his damaged leg, then he reached for his cane and limped over to the mirror:

He hated what he saw reflected back at him. His right eye was gone, shot out seven years before in the battle for the city. There was a scar below his eyelid, and the socket was filled with a glass eye that looked convincing when he wore his monocle. Small lines were etched deeper into his once youthful face. He had gained a little weight since the old days, too. He wasn't old yet, but pain and loss had taken its toll as much as the lonely days and nights he spent reflecting on the past.

Oswald smoothed a crease from the expensive fabric of his purple jacket, then he adjusted his tie, and looked again into his own eyes, one sighted, one glass, reflected in the mirror.

“ _No one could love this, no one ever did,”_ he said quietly, reminding himself of what he believed to be a cold, harsh fact. Then he limped over to the window, and a troubled look came to his face as he reflected on the news that had reached him that morning:

The destructive lunatic Jeremiah Velaska had been busted out of Arkham. There had been an explosion, scores of guards shot dead by his people. Velaska was out there now, free somewhere in the city and he knew he was planning to strike. He would strike out at the most powerful figure in Gotham's underworld, his sights set on being the new king of Gotham, because he thought big, he always had. Big _and_ destructive. _And it was lousy timing..._ Oswald gave a heavy sigh as he felt tension rising and lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply and blowing out a cloud of smoke as he thought about his meeting tomorrow with powerful Irish gang boss Kane MacQueen, who was currently on a cruise ship crossing the Atlantic. Tomorrow they would be sealing a deal with the MacQueen International Shipping Company, which would give a big boost to the often difficult task of bringing in weapons to Gotham. If MacQueen heard a rumour that Valeska was about to start a turf war, a very lucrative partnership would be lost. His people were on alert, but as yet, no one knew when or where Jeremiah would strike.

The skies were darkening, more rain was on the way. It reflected in Oswald's pale gaze as he looked to the city and thought about the lurking danger. Storm clouds were certainly drawing near...

 

Far out at sea, the skies were clear. There was a chill in the air as Molly MacQueen threw on a leather jacket and left her cabin, then hurried up the open deck to meet with her father. Kane MacQueen was leaning on the barrier, looking out the open water. The wind blew back his dark hair peppered with grey streaks, and as he saw his daughter, he turned his head and smiled as fondness lit his green eyes.

“This time tomorrow we will be in Gotham City,” he told her, “I think this break will do you good, Molly.”

She said nothing as she fished a pack of cigarettes from her pocket, then took one from the box and lit it, taking a drag on it before she spoke.

“A few weeks in Gotham will certainly be different to life back home but it won't change me, Dad.”

As she said those words, she turned her head as raven black hair that fell to her shoulders blew back on the sea breeze. Sadness shaded her blue eyes. Kane had always thought she had eyes like her mother, but her mother Julia was always smiling – these days, Molly was always quiet, a sad look in her gaze, a look that had never left her since Liam, her fiancée, had been gunned down in a gangland shooting two years before. Liam had been one of his best men, and a good man who had loved his daughter. Now Molly was almost thirty years old and had a look about her like a grieving widow. That kind of pain could last a lifetime, and the thought frightened him more than he cared to admit. She was his only child, born into a life of luxury and security and showered with love. He had always thought his lucrative underworld dealings had helped to make her future brighter – but nothing could turn that light back on in her eyes, not when she thought about who she had lost.

But this trip across the Atlantic had given him hope. Back home at their mansion out in the rolling countryside of County Mayo, where the acres of land were also home to his wife's horse breeding stables, he had told Molly about his trip, and then asked her to go with him. She had made an excuse to stay home, until he had told her about the city of Gotham and the man he was going to meet there. He had showed her some pictures of Penguin, the former mayor and millionaire businessman who ran the underworld, and she had been intrigued. She had even smiled, and then she had said she would come along, because Gotham sounded like an interesting place...

The water was calm as the ship moved through it and Molly was still looking out to sea as she smoked her cigarette.

“I know you miss Liam,” Kane said, “But you have to move on, Molly. I just want you to get on with life again.”

Molly looked at him again.

“Actually I was thinking about Gotham. It does look like an interesting place, I've been googling it.”

“When we get there I'm sure you'll get a chance to see the sights. And we've plenty of time, a few weeks before we leave.”

Molly finished her cigarette and flicked the butt over the barrier, watching as it headed for the water far below, then she took her phone from her pocket.

“This Penguin fella... he sounds fascinating. He's certainly done a lot with his life to get this far... mayor, wealthy businessman, king of the city underworld... What did you say his last name was Cobble-what?”

“Cobblepot,” her father replied, and she tapped the screen and searched.

As she saw an image come up of Oswald standing outside a grand looking building and shaking hands with a city official, she took a closer look at the picture, taking in his immaculate suit and his top hat and his monocle. He was a rather attractive man and younger than she expected, perhaps in his forties...

“Why do they call him Penguin?” she asked.

“I don't know. His nose?”

Molly was still looking at the picture.

“I wonder why he walks with a cane?”

“I don't know that either. I do know he lost an eye in the city's troubles a few years back. I shall have to be careful what I say, you know me, I can be a little clumsy with my words sometimes, especially when it comes to important meetings and people with noticeable differences... I try to be _so_ tactful – too tactful - and end up saying the wrong things!”

Molly laughed. It was good to hear her laugh again, and then as she reminded him of something, his face turned scarlet at the memory.

“Oh my god! I just remembered that time you met with that gang boss back home – the guy who lost his hand in a car accident! You went to shake his hand, went for the one that wasn't there and said sorry. Then later on you and him were talking about a rival gang who had been causing trouble and you said you'd get your people together with his to sort it out, and then you _finally_ shook hands with him and got the right hand... and then, I think this is _classic Dad_... you said to him, _It's a pleasure to help out. I'm always happy to lend you a hand!_ ” she laughed again, “I heard all about it from Liam, he thought it was hilarious!”

Kane was laughing too, and inwardly cringing at his own verbal clumsiness, then he saw her smile fade. _Liam again_. _He wished she would just forget the past..._

“I remember that day. I didn't know if the guy was going to kill me or laugh. Thankfully he saw the funny side!” then he checked his watch, “I'd better give Ryan a call, see if him and boys have landed at the airport yet. I'm glad I brought a few of my men along, we need to make a show of strength, it's impressive. I might even offer a few of them out on loan to him if he needs any jobs doing while we're here.”

“You said this deal is worth millions,” she replied.

“It's worth a fortune to both of us,” Kane replied, “And I want someone strong like Cobblepot on my side. It all helps to expand business.”

“I want to meet this interesting Mr Penguin,” Molly said, and she smiled as she flipped her hair off her face, defying the strengthening breeze.

“And you will,” Kane assured her, “Not long to go now,” he looked out to sea, “In a few hours, Gotham will be on the horizon.”

“I'm actually looking forward to this trip now,” Molly admitted, and it made her father happy to see a smile on her face that reflected in her eyes. Maybe bringing her along on this trip would be a turning point for her. He hoped so with all of his heart, all he wanted was for Molly to be happy again.

 

Next day after rising early and taking his time to get ready, Oswald went down the grand staircase of the Van Dahl mansion and had breakfast alone in the dining room. The weather was growing chilly as October approached, and he had asked the maid to light the fires and make the place welcoming for his business meeting. Then, with the house made ready for his talks with Mr MacQueen, he had no company but the sound of the clock ticking as he watched the time crawl by.

Oswald went into the front room, then took a reluctant look into the large mirror on the wall. He hated what he saw, but he decided at least his dark suit looked immaculate. Today he had even styled his hair into sweeping spikes, that look Barbara Kean used to call _disco vampire_. There wasn't anything he could do about his eye, or his need for that damned cane, but he was sure he would make a good impression. He checked the time again. It was just gone nine thirty. By now Mr MacQueen would be in Gotham, at his hotel, and soon, his oldest and most reliable hired gun, Victor Zsasz, would be taking a drive over to the hotel to collect him. If this meeting went well, the first shipments could be in Gotham within days... _Unless Valeska chose to stir up trouble._ The thought of it set him on edge, and he had just had a smoke and it was too early to drink. Oswald breathed out slowly, feeling his guts twist as he wondered how long it would take Valeska to gather his men and make his plans... The ticking of the clock seemed louder. Oswald was on edge and had never been so aware of being alone as he was at this moment. Some days he could live with it easily, but at times like this, the pain was almost unbearable. So much was at stake...

 

Oswald wasn't the only one who was feeling the pressure. By ten am, Molly and her father were outside the hotel, as Molly lit a cigarette, it was snatched from her.

“Gimme that, I'm a nervous friggin' wreck!”

“I thought you packed it up, Dad!”

“I need a smoke! This is a big deal today, a fucking _huge_ deal -”

“You're always like this when you meet someone important for the first time!” Molly exclaimed, “Why? You're Kane MacQueen, you've got nothing to prove to anyone!”

“And he's Penguin!” Kane puffed on the cigarette and then dropped it and ground it hard with the heel of his shoe, “I never get used to it, Molly, I never really accept I've got as far as I have, every time I meet someone important I think, how did I get here?”

“By being a hard bastard,” Molly reminded him with a smile.

Then a sleek black car pulled up and the tinted window slid down.

“Mr MacQueen?” asked Victor Zsasz, having already recognised him from seeing his picture.

“Yes, I'm Kane MacQueen and this is my daughter Molly.”

“I'm Victor, I work for Penguin, he sent me to collect you,” Victor replied. He was about to get out of the car and open the door for MacQueen, but the door was already open and Molly had climbed in first. Her father joined her in the back and then closed the door. As Victor drove away, Molly spoke up.

“What's Mr Penguin like?”

He kept his eyes on the road as they hit heavy traffic.

“He's... just Penguin,” he replied, “I've worked for him for many years. A nice guy if you're on his side, if you see what I mean.”

“Of course,” Kane agreed, “There are plenty who say that about me back home.”

The traffic was moving more readily now. They headed through the city and took the highway that led towards their destination.

“Where is home?” Victor asked, “You're Irish, right?”

“Yes, we are. I'm from County Mayo,” Kane replied.

“I've always wanted to visit Ireland,” Victor said, “It looks beautiful.”

“Some parts are astounding,” Kane agreed.

They drove on and soon the Van Dahl estate was in sight.

“What a beautiful home!” said Molly as they drove through the gates, “Is Mr Penguin married?”

“No,” said Victor.

“Any kids?”

“No,” he said again.

“He lives in this big house on his own?”

“He's a busy man, always working,” Victor replied, hoping that remark covered all questions. He knew Oswald was lonely as hell, just like the rest of Gotham knew it. He lived alone in the family mansion and had done for several years. The only time he had social company was when he turned up at the Iceberg Lounge, and then he would talk to anyone who would listen, just to have some conversation. Mostly the ones who lingered around him were paid staff and hired guns. Everyone saw him as Penguin the monster, the psycho gangster, the odd little guy with a limp and a glass eye who had clawed his way to the top of the underworld with blood on his hands...

The car stopped outside the mansion and Victor got out and opened up the passenger door. Kane got out followed by his daughter, and Victor led them up to the door of the mansion and then knocked. Molly stood there waiting, and as she looked to a curtain she saw it twitch, then the door opened.

“Hello!” Oswald said with a warm smile, “I'm Penguin. Call me Oswald. Welcome to my home!”

As Oswald shook hands with the man in the suit and the long dark coat, he glanced to the woman standing beside him. She looked around thirty, she was wearing jeans and boots and a leather jacket and her black hair cascaded to her shoulders. Her bright blue eyes sparkled and as she smiled, Oswald briefly smiled back, a polite gesture as he extended his hand and the thought hit him that she was very beautiful. _Far too beautiful for the likes of me,_ he silently concluded and at that moment had never been more aware of his crippled leg and his scar and his glass eye.

“You must be Mrs MacQueen,” he said as he shook her hand.

Molly laughed.

“No! He's my Dad!”

“I am _so_ sorry, my mistake!” Oswald exclaimed, and as he laughed too, his face flushed.

Molly's gaze had lingered on him as he spoke again to her father, she took in the sight of his immaculate suit, his spiked up hair, the way the lines around his eyes deepened as he smiled. His voice was like silk. He had striking eyes, too – a shade between palest blue and a hint of green. She could tell the real one from the glass one because he was wearing a monocle and that eye seemed magnified and lifeless. But the other one shone with warmth. It was the first time she had really noticed anyone new since losing Liam... He invited them in, and they followed him inside and he closed the door behind them.

 

“Please, follow me!” he said warmly after they had taken off their coats and hung them up in the hallway, and then he leaned hard on his cane and hobbled off towards the front room as Kane and Molly followed.

Molly took a seat on a comfortable sofa as Oswald rang for the maid to bring tea. Then she watched as her Dad stood by the fire with Penguin and conversation began.

“How was your journey?” Oswald asked.

“It was lovely,” Kane replied, “We sailed here. It was much more relaxing than taking a flight. I sent a few of my men over by plane, I like to have security close at hand should I need it – and I thought if you need any help, maybe they can join up with your people for a few weeks.”

“That's a very generous gesture,” Oswald replied, then the maid came in placed the tea on the table and left the room again.

“I'm very keen to make this deal with you,” Kane added, “I'm connected closely to a guy who owns an arms factory and it's been very lucrative for both of us for many years. Combine that with the shipping industry and the profits just get bigger. I'm sure we can work out a very agreeable deal here.”

“Of course,” Oswald agreed warmly, “As you can see, money is not a problem for me.”

Kane laughed.

“I'd have to be blind not to notice that!” he exclaimed, then he froze for a second, focusing on Oswald's glass eye as Oswald looked slightly confused and Molly looked away as she smiled and shook her head, thinking, _Oh Dad, you've done it again..._

But the conversation kept flowing well as the two men sat down and had tea, then after more than an hour, Oswald suggested they go to his study to draw up some documents and seal the deal. Kane readily agreed and rose from his seat, then Molly watched as Oswald got up stiffly, looking around the room.

“Cane... where did I....” he muttered.

“Yes?” said Kane, “Where did you what, Oswald?”

“No, not you... _my cane_... oh there it is!” he limped over to the fireplace and snatched it up, thankful to be leaning on it once again, “This cane,” Oswald added, “I always walk with a cane.”

And Molly knew what was coming next. _Oh Dad, she thought, not again..._

“Do you?” said Kane as he feigned surprise, “I never noticed!”

Oswald looked at him in surprise.

“Really? That's usually the first thing people notice about me, I walk with a cane and I have a limp.”

“You have a limp?”

“You didn't notice that either?”

“No, not at all,” Kane said as his eyes widened and his face flushed, “I wouldn't have spotted it, Oswald.”

“Dad's not very observant,” Molly added, sitting back comfortably on the sofa as she resisted the urge to laugh at her father's over zealous attempt at being polite.

Oswald took off his monocle.

“I also have a glass eye, in case you were wondering what was wrong with me.”

“Really?” said Kane, and that was the moment Molly knew she had to speak up again.

“I heard you lost your eye in the city war,” she said.

Oswald looked at her, and as their eyes met, he inwardly flinched, She was looking at him, at his bullet wound, at his eyes, at the fake one... he felt ugly.

“Yes, I did,” he replied, “I apologise for bringing up the subject and I realise it's not very attractive - no - I mean, it's unsightly.”

She saw his face flush and had noticed how he had glossed over that matter of attractiveness.

“You were brave to put your life at risk like that to save your city.”

He looked back at her, floundering for a moment as his blush deepened.

“Oh no, Molly,” he said, shaking his head, “I was not brave. Courage had nothing to do with it. I didn't think about it, I just did what I had to do at the time.”

“That's what brave men do,” Molly replied, meeting his gaze with honesty.

Her words had taken him by surprise. He was still blushing. Then he gave her the briefest twitch of a smile and led her father out of the room to formalise their deal in a contract.

 

While they were gone, Molly sat alone in the front room. The maid collected the tea tray and left again. Then Molly got up and crossed the room and looked at an array of pictures in silver frames arranged on a shelf:

Oswald, a few years younger. He stood in a bar called Oswald's wearing a smart suit, he was several pound slighter there and had no cane and his eyes were intact. He stood beside a much older woman who smiled proudly... his mother? She studied the picture of Oswald and made a comparison to then and now. He hadn't changed that much. Clearly, his body had taken some damage over the years, but he was still the same man, still handsome...

That thought caught her by surprise. But she had thought it now and couldn't unthink it. Yes, Oswald was, despite his fearsome reputation, and less than perfect appearance, an attractive man. He was also very sweet and charming and she instinctively knew he was lonely. Perhaps it was her own loneliness that was tuning into it, but she felt sure she was right. Maybe his mother had passed away. Perhaps this was the kind of sadness only those who grieved could fully understand.

Molly looked at the other pictures. They were mostly taken in the bar, him and friends from several years ago. But there was nothing new. It was pretty clear he had shut himself away from life after the city war, thrown himself into work, kept his head down and not looked up at life again...

As she heard her father's voice then Oswald's as they approached the open door, she sat back down again. Her Dad came in with a smile on his face. The deal had been done. It would take a few days to sort out the finer details and get the first shipment over, but today had been a success.

They had lunch together in the dining room. Oswald invited them to stay for drinks. They talked for hours, and the conversation was light – in between her Dad and Oswald laughing as they compared their rise to power and some of the nastier killings they'd had to carry out over the years. Molly stayed silent for most of the time, watching as Oswald and her father began to strike up a friendship. Then Molly glanced at Oswald and asked a question.

“I couldn't help but notice that lovely picture in your front room – you and the older lady. Is that your mother?”

Oswald set his glass down and smiled fondly, then his smile faded as sadness shaded his gaze.

“Yes, that was my Mother. She died a few years back. It was an underworld related murder. I miss her every day.”

“My Liam died in a shooting two years back,” Molly replied, “I still miss him everyday. We were engaged, he worked for my Dad. It's hard to go on without someone you love, isn't it?”

“Yes, it is,” Oswald agreed, “And I'm sorry for your loss.”

“And I'm sorry for yours too,” she replied.

Their eyes met across the table, and in that moment they both felt a mutual bond of understanding. They both felt the true depth of the kind of grief that would forever linger. Then Kane checked his watch.

“Well Oswald, it's been a great afternoon, but we should be leaving now. I'll see you tomorrow and we can start making arrangements to put the plan into action.”

As they left the table, Oswald shook his hand, then he turned to Molly and as she shook his hand, their eyes met again. He felt his face start to flush. Yes, she was beautiful. And he was sure that was a pointless thought. She wasn't smiling at him so warmly because she found him attractive – it was probably pity. He saw no reason why it would be down to anything else.

He led them back to the door where Victor was waiting outside in the car to take them back to the hotel.

“It's really been a productive afternoon,” Kane added as he turned back to him, “Thank you, Oswald. I'm looking forward to meeting with you again tomorrow.”

They had both turned away to leave. Oswald made a quick decision and spoke up.

“Wait, Mr MacQueen?”

As he and his daughter turned back, Oswald looked form Kane to Molly and smiled warmly.

“I understand you're planning to stay a few weeks in Gotham. After that deal we just made it wouldn't be fair of me to force you to stay in a hotel. I would prefer it if you both stayed here as my guests.”

“That's very generous, Oswald, but -”

“I insist!”

Molly smiled.

“Thanks Oswald,” she said, as her father shot her a surprised glance, “We'll take you up on that offer. We'll be back tomorrow morning, about ten am?”

“That would be perfect!”

“We will see you then,” Molly added.

Oswald stood in the open doorway and watched as they got into the car. As it drove away, he turned back and closed the door of the mansion and he was still smiling as joy radiated from his undamaged eye. Finally, he would have some good company here in this lonely house! MacQueen was a man he got along with well, and Molly... he was sure he could admire her silently from afar and it would do him no harm at all. This house had been empty for too long. He felt as if life was about to flow back into it. Then his phone rang and he took it from his pocket.

“Ed!” he said in surprise. It had been a long while, too long since he had heard his voice.

“Oswald, I just wanted to call to ask if everything was okay. I heard about Velaska's escape and I'm worried he might make a move on someone's turf. I figured it might be yours.... Do you need me? Can I help out?”

“I already have my men out there trying to find information,” he replied, “It may be a while before we learn anything solid.”

“If I hear anything, I'll call you back,” Ed promised, and Oswald felt an old ache in his heart for what might have been. Once him and Ed had been so close, so strong, but it had crumbled to dust like all his other hopes and dreams regarding love.

“Thank you, Ed,” Oswald replied, then he spoke again, “How is Lee?”

“She's just fine. Listen, I have to go. If I can turn up anything on Velaska I'll let you know. Take care, Oswald.”

“Ed -”

The call had ended. Oswald put his phone back in his pocket and leaned on his cane as he walked back up the hallway of his quiet mansion, then he returned to dining room, where he sat alone and poured another drink. For now, the house was too silent. But tomorrow that would change, and that thought warmed his lonely heart.

 

“ _Why did you say yes to him? And since when did my daughter have a say in my business affairs?”_ as he asked the question, Kane's angry voice echoed about the hotel corridor as he and Molly headed back to their rooms.

“Don't get worked up, Dad! I'd never mess with your business deals! He offered us a place to stay, he obviously doesn't have much company, he's lonely!”

“He's a millionaire several times over, he could buy company if he wanted to!”

“Money doesn't buy happiness, Dad,” she reminded him, and he glanced at her, catching the look in her eyes and his anger simmered down. Every word she had just said was true. Money couldn't bring Liam back, it couldn't undo all the grief she had been through.

“You're right,” he agreed, as the look in his eyes softened, “And maybe this is for the best. I like Oswald, and I think maybe you do too.”

She smiled again. He thought he saw a hint of a flush to her cheeks.

“You could do a lot worse than choose a millionaire underworld boss with a limp and a glass eye!” he remarked, and then he chuckled.

Annoyance flashed in her gaze

“Don't start trying to put me and him together, Dad! I just think he's a nice fella. That's all.”

“You said that about Liam once,” he reminded her with a knowing smile, then he opened up the door to his room, retreated inside and closed it before she had the chance to react with more annoyance. 

Molly shook her head, walking away and heading up to her own room, but as she reached it, she smiled. Maybe her Dad was right – she did like Oswald, at least, that was her impression on meeting him for the first time. She was sure she would get to know him better soon. He was unlike anyone she had ever met before. As soon as she returned to her room she started to pack, ready to leave the next day, and as she carefully put her clothing back in her case, she was still smiling:  _She really couldn't wait to return to the Van Dahl mansion and meet the very interesting Oswald Cobblepot again..._

 

As night fell, Oswald felt in good spirits despite the lingering concern regarding the threat of Velaska's escape. His men had turned up no information, and maybe no news was good news, perhaps it would take that clown faced psycho months to regroup and form a plan. When he did, he knew the shit would hit the fan but for now, perhaps that threat was far off...

As he stood in the shower under the warm water and closed his eyes to avoid water running into his empty right eye socket, he drew in a deep breath as he relaxed and deeply private thoughts began to dance through his mind: 

He thought of Molly, of how pretty she was, then how her gaze had lingered on him. He imagined her there with him, naked under the running water, then their skin sliding warm together as they embraced and shared a kiss. What had she called him... brave? She had meant that. It had been so long since anyone had pain him a genuine compliment he couldn't recall the last one. And now he was starting to feel stirrings of arousal.  _Go away,_ he thought, guessing there was little point allowing this indulgence. It had been years since he had been intimate with anyone and to try now would probably be a disaster. Not that she would look at him in that way anyway, he was sure a girl like Molly would never be interested in a guy like him...

But he was getting harder now, and he gave a sigh as he leaned facing the tiled wall as the water ran down his back, he allowed himself the fleeting fantasy of Molly embracing him, running her fingers through his hair, telling him again that she thought he was a brave man, seeing admiration in her eyes, feeling her touch as her hand slid down his body... He was solidly hard now and he gave several firm jerks and breathed out hard as he came, his hardness throbbed in his hand then as the wave of pleasure faded out, he opened his good eye to see his cum washing away down the shower drain. He turned off the water, got out and got dried off and then went through to the bedroom, he briefly glanced into the mirror, seeing his scarred eye and the darkened pit where a bullet had taken his real eye years before. He didn't bother to look at the rest of his reflection, seeing scars all over his pale, slightly overweight body. One glance was enough to confirm no one would want him now... 

But sometimes, fantasy was worthwhile because it was better than nothing. Molly had certainly lit a fire in him, but that flame would just have to burn alone in the dark. He closed the lid of the case where he kept his glass eye, placed his monocle on top of it and then got into bed, sliding into clean sheets that caressed his naked body. He was still feeling the after effects of that orgasm, and sleeping nude was not something he often did, but tonight, he wanted to fall asleep imagining more of that fantasy, her beside him, him waking to see a gaze that saw past his imperfections. 

He turned on his side and slid his hand to the space beside him. It was always empty and cold. He guessed it always would be. As he fell asleep, his last thought was of tomorrow – he was looking forward to some company here at the house, it would make him feel alive again, especially to be around Molly, who had made him blush with her pure honesty. Oswald slept well that night, dreaming of a woman with long black hair and sky blue eyes. 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it best to put a little warning here about a mention of the subject of abortion which may be sensitive or a trigger for some . Enjoy the read, much love, Davina x

Chapter 2

 

The next morning brought rain from leaden skies that hung over the city darkly. Molly was glad to be with her father behind the door of the mansion house, warm inside as the fires burned and the lamplights shone  cozy to banish the gloom. Her father was talking with Oswald downstairs, more discussion about business. Molly had unpacked and then looked around the bedroom and smiled: This room was filled with antique furniture, the drapes at the window were velvet and the walls were covered with aged, but expensive paper in a shade of dark green. This place was stunning. It looked like it had been preserved from the days of Edwardian England and it was beautiful inside and out. 

She wondered what Oswald's room was like, then left the bedroom and took a wander up the hallway. The door to the master bedroom was open and the maid was changing the sheets. She cast a glance inside and then walked away, having seen a grand but old fashioned room with a large four poster bed. The main bedroom had an en suite bathroom too, the door had been open and she saw the white tiles inside it. This house was perfectly preserved with its costly and aged furniture and décor but the modern touches were all around, TV in the bedrooms, Wi-Fi, she had noticed several phone lines installed too.

But this place felt old and grand, it felt romantic, too. And probably none of those things to the man who owned it, she guessed – to live here all alone must be difficult, with so many rooms and every single one of them standing empty with no company in the evenings or on cold nights... She was heading back to her room when she heard her father call her name. Molly looked over the balcony and smiled to see her Dad standing next to Oswald. Both men wore coats and carried umbrellas.

“Yes, Dad?”

“I'm off to the docks with Oswald to meet some people. We'll be back later.”

“Okay,” she replied, and as she glanced at Oswald, her gaze lingered. He smiled up at her and there it was again, his face flushed.

She went back to her room to finally get settled for the rest of her stay, feeling glad she would be staying here for the rest of her time in Gotham. This house was so charming and beautiful. And it would have felt more like a home, if Oswald wasn't so alone here...

 

The sound of the rain on the window had been soothing as she laid back on top of the covers, and drifted into an unexpected sleep. When Molly woke up it was gone mid day and she checked her phone. There was a message from her father:

_Having lunch in the city with Oswald._

She guessed that text alert must have woken her, it had only just been sent,

_Okay, enjoy lunch_ , she replied, then she left her phone in her room and went back downstairs. 

She hoped when business was concluded she could get out and see more of the city – she had already decided Oswald was the best person to show her around, hopefully he would have the time to do that, she remembered Victor had said he was always busy, always working. But perhaps Oswald could set some time aside in his busy schedule. It was starting to dawn on her that the more she saw of him, the more she liked him. He was surprisingly easy to like, despite the fact that the name Penguin was so feared by his enemies. She guessed she found him easy to understand because her father was an underworld man, she had grown up surrounded by people feared as powerful criminals, all of them had been her father's friends, and welcomed into their home like family, all of them had seemed like family to her. 

That thought brought back a memory of Ryan - the guy who had been armed protection for her father for more than fifteen years, the guy she called Uncle Ryan - cradling her in his arms on the floor of her family home after she took the call to say Liam had been shot dead. She had fallen to her knees and screamed in his arms until her throat went hoarse... Today Ryan would probably be meeting with her Dad as he introduced the rest of the guys to Penguin, and explained they would be working alongside his men for the next few weeks.

She didn't feel the need to go along and watch these matters unfold. Some day she might follow her father into his underworld dealings – for now, he was happy to run his business by himself. After the struggle it had taken him to get to the top, she didn't blame him for feeling that way. Then she wondered who Oswald would leave his legacy to one day – he had no one...

Her footsteps echoed ghostly as she walked along the hallway, coming to a stop at the study. The door was open, the fire had been lit ready for Oswald's return and the room looked warm and inviting. She went inside and looked around, in here he had an office area where a laptop sat closed on a polished antique desk where a comfortable high backed padded chair was tucked behind it. On the other side of the room were rows of bookshelves, and she headed over to them, glancing at the titles. She saw one at the end of the shelf, it looked very old and its leather spine had faded lettering that read A History of Gotham City. Molly gave a sigh. It had to be on the top shelf and she saw no means of reaching, it apart from stretching...

She reached up, her fingertips grabbed at the book and she pulled it free, and it tumbled down and hit the floor along with a couple of framed photographs that had been laid on top of the highest row of books, left until now, out of sight. She heard the breaking of glass as they hit the carpet, and quickly fell to her knees and carefully set aside the book, then lifted one frame and saw it was undamaged, the photo inside it was another old one, this time Oswald was not in the picture. The image was of a woman, her gold dress complimented her golden brown skin, her short black hair framed her face and it was part coloured scarlet. She was undeniably beautiful, but there was coldness about her eyes. Molly set the picture aside and then as she lifted the other frame, it fell apart and remaining shards of broken glass hit the floor. 

“Shit!” she said, looking at the mess.

Then she saw what had fallen out as the frame had come apart. There was another photo of that same woman, this time standing with Oswald, the Gotham river was in the background and he was holding her umbrella as she stood beneath it. And behind that old picture had been a folded letter. She set the picture aside and opened up the paper, feeling curious and guilty at the same time for reading something that did not belong to her. She had no business reading this letter and she knew it, but Oswald seemed to be a man with secrets, and certainly not the type to ever open up and talk about them. She glanced to the doorway, saw and heard no one and glanced at the letter:

_'My dearest Fish,_ Oswald had written, _I am begging you not to do this! I have spent several years working my way up to be your umbrella boy and in that time I have come to adore you! I am thirty years old and capable of serving you and worshipping you for many years to come. I would do anything to make you happy. I would do what ever you asked of me, forever! But please, don't do anything we might both regret. We could be a family! All my love, Oswald.'_

Underneath his flowing, neatly written words, Fish had folded the paper and hastily written a response: _'Oswald, I did do it and I don't regret it. My role in the underworld comes before all else. Remember your place – in my employment – and never send me your sentimental begging letters again! Your service to me includes whatever I demand. However, I accept that accidents can – and do - happen and I will not be taking the costs from your monthly wage. I paid for the termination myself.'_

Molly stared at the response from the woman named Fish... Clearly, Oswald had once, many years ago, been employed by a powerful woman who clearly didn't care for him as he had cared for her – she had told him about the abortion scribbled on the back of the same letter he had sent her, like his feelings counted for nothing in her busy schedule?

“ _You cold hearted bitch!”_ she whispered, then she heard footsteps and quickly folded the letter and shoved it under the photo in the remains of the broken frame. As the maid came in she apologised for the mess, explaining she had accidentally knocked some pictures down. The maid insisted on cleaning up immediately, and put the book and the photos and the letter inside the broken frame on Oswald's desk. As she got up from the floor she looked to the desk, hoping the maid would replace everything on the shelf when she was done.

But just then, Oswald, who had just arrived back, came into the study.

“Sorry!” she said nervously, glancing back to the broken frame, “I was trying to reach a book and things fell down.”

His gaze lingered for a moment on the picture frames placed on the desk, then he looked to the undamaged one as sadness reflected in his gaze.

“Who is she?” Molly asked, “She's very beautiful.”

“Her name was Fish Mooney,” Oswald replied, “I started out in the underworld as her umbrella boy. It ended badly... our association, I mean. She's been dead for years.”

“I'm sorry about the mess,” Molly replied, “I was reaching up things fell down. It was clumsy of me.”

He smiled politely as no trace of anger reflected in his sighted eye.

“Believe me when I say I've had worse disasters in life than a broken picture frame, Molly. I'm spending a few hours at my club, the Iceberg Lounge tonight. You and your father are welcome to join me.”

Molly smiled brightly.

“I would love to see your club!” she said.

His expression softened as that flush returned to his face.

“I shall be leaving at nine pm,” he replied, “I look forward to spending the evening with both of you, I'm sure it will be very enjoyable.”

Then he left the room, and Molly couldn't deny she was feeling more than a little excited about this – it could be a chance to get to know him better, she wanted to do that, she felt ready to do that now. Grief had taken its toll and there had been a time when she had thought she could never move on from it – but meeting Oswald had changed that. He pulled her to him like a magnet, even if he didn't realise it. Perhaps tonight, she would do something about that and bring them a little closer...

 

Later that evening, Oswald felt nervous as he checked his appearance one final time before leaving his room. His suit was immaculate, his hair was groomed, he had put on some cologne and given his monocle a polish before putting it on. He gave a sigh as he looked into the mirror. He had done the best with what little he had to work with, that was how he saw it. He always tried to cover his many imperfections with good grooming and expensive clothing, but he still felt it wasn't enough. He had always felt that way, but he felt more aware of it now he was older and carried more damage. He especially felt it tonight, knowing Molly would be with him at the club.

He put on his lavish purple coat and top hat, then finished his cigarette and put it out in the ashtray and turned away from the mirror. He wished he could just forget how attracted he felt to Molly. It was going nowhere, and he had learned long ago that wishful thinking was a waste of time. The kind of dreams that came true in this town were those of wealth and power, and they didn't happen by magic, they came about by hard work, smashed bones, bullet wounds and blood on his hands. The grim realities of life in Gotham city... He checked the time, then he took his phone from his pocket, called Victor and asked him to bring the car to the front of the house.

 

Further down the hallway, behind her closed bedroom door, Molly was also getting ready to leave, and her mood couldn't have been more different to Oswald's as she put on her lipstick, checked her make up and then stood back from the mirror and smoothed down her blue dress. It was short and tight and wrapped about her slender body to perfection. She smiled at her reflection as she ran her fingers through her dark hair and watched as it fell softly to her shoulders.

“Oswald,” she said with a sparkle in her eyes, “We've both had a shit life. Maybe tonight that all changes. I'm determined to at least make you smile this evening!”

Then as she reached for her jacket, she stopped, looking again at her reflection. Something had changed. It was there in her eyes, a sparkle that had long been absent. Life was starting to feel brighter. She smiled as she turned for the door, carrying with her high hopes that tonight would be fantastic.

Molly was in for a surprise when she knocked on her father's door.

“Yes, Molly?” he said, standing there in a bathrobe.

“Dad, we're leaving in fifteen minutes!”

“You are!” Kane replied, “I decided I'm going to call your mother and watch some TV and then have an early night. I can see the club another time...” he smiled as he looked at her knowingly, “Have a good night with Oswald. I won't wait up!”

“Dad, you're doing it again! Stop trying to push us together.”

“I'm just having an early night. You go out and have fun, Molly!”

“You are trying to push us together!” she said.

“No I'm not!”

Amusement danced in his gaze and she couldn't help but smile.

“Goodnight, Dad,” she said, then she walked away and Kane closed the bedroom door and chuckled as he thought about what she had just said. _Of course_ he was trying to push them together – since Molly had met Oswald she'd been like the old Molly, the girl she was before Liam's death, her smile was back, the light in her eyes was back. But Oswald seemed like the shy type. Too right he was pushing them together, they'd need an almighty shove for anything to happen – and he hoped tonight might be just what both of them needed...

 

As Molly joined him outside on the driveway, Oswald looked back at the house.

“Where's your father?”

“He said he wanted to call home and then have an early night. It looks like you're stuck with me instead!”

Oswald smiled as he allowed himself one stolen glance at her, standing there lit by the porch lights looking more lovely than he dared contemplate.

“I'm sure we will have a delightful evening, Molly.”

“You look nice, by the way,” she added, and he shot her a look of surprise.

“For that, the credit must go to my tailor. I only buy from the best.”

She laughed softly.

“I was talking about you!”

“What about me?” he said, sounding genuinely confused.

Then the car pulled up and Oswald opened the door for her.

“Thanks,” she said with a smile and he smiled back at her, then looked away as he got in beside her, feeling his face flush yet again.

As they drove away heading for the city, he kept his face turned to the window, feeling too aware of her closeness and too awkward to meet her gaze. She made him feel things he had thought he would never feel again, and there wasn't anything he could do to let her know about it, because he saw no point in revealing a secret she would not care to learn.

 

An hour later they were sat together at a table in a corner in the Lounge, at a distance from the crowd as he drank his second cocktail and Molly was on her second scotch. Their table was small, but Oswald had positioned his chair opposite her, keeping a distance as they talked about Ireland and her mother's horse breeding business. Oswald watched her intently as she spoke, making a mental note that he ought to watch how much he drank that night in case he said too much, paid her too heavy a compliment – that would surely result in much embarrassment... Then Molly suddenly changed the subject as she smiled and her eyes sparkled.

“I really must have a dance with you later.”

Oswald looked over his shoulder, assuming someone had just come over to the table. _No one was standing behind him._ He felt awkward as he gestured to the cane resting against the edge of the table.

“I have a damaged leg, Molly, but thank you, I appreciate the kind gesture.”

As he smiled politely she shot him a look of surprise.

“Oswald, I'm not asking out of pity! I spent two years mourning Liam. I haven't looked at another man – let alone asked one to dance. Not until I met you. So I don't waste my time on false compliments. I said it because I meant it. Just like I said you look nice tonight – I meant that too.”

His jaw dropped as he felt a flush spread to his face, then he looked down at the table, into his cocktail.

“It's very nice of you to flatter me, but I really don't think there's any point. I mean, look at me!”

She smiled warmly.

“I am,” she said, and winked.

As he felt the shock like a small physical jolt he stared at her: _Molly found him attractive?_

“Why would you -”

“Why not?”

Oswald forced a nervous smile as he reached for his cane and got up.

“I'll get us another drink,” he said quickly, and hobbled off towards the bar.

 

As he waited for his drinks, someone tapped him on the shoulder. He looked around, then up at the man in a the green suit who smiled down at him.

“Hello Ed!” he said in surprise.

“Any luck with the Velaska situation?” he asked.

“Nothing yet,” Oswald replied.

“I guess it's wishful thinking to assume he might have got the hell out of Dodge while he can still make a run for it?”

“That probably is too much to hope for,” Oswald agreed.

Then Ed looked across the room.

“Is that Kane MacQueen's daughter?”

“Yes, she and her father are staying with me for a few weeks. We were supposed to be out with Kane tonight but he decided to go to bed early.”

Ed smiled brightly.

“Leaving you alone with Molly, is he? I saw the way she looked at you. I think she likes you, Oswald.”

Seeing Oswald blush reminded him of the old days and how easily flustered he became on the subject of anything personal, and he smiled fondly at his ex lover as he watched him struggle to cover his shyness. Then Lee came over to join them and Ed put his arm around her.

“How are you, Oswald?” she asked.

“Fine, still running this city,” he replied with a smile.

Then he caught his breath as a brief moment of surprise registered on his face. Someone had just come up behind him and given his ass a playful squeeze... _He was Penguin, why would anyone do that?_ He looked around. _Molly was behind him. She gave him a wink. This time he felt his heart beat a little faster. She really meant it, for some strange reason, this woman seriously found him attractive...._

“I thought you could do with a hand with the drinks,” she said with a smile.

“This is Molly,” he said, introducing her to Ed and Lee.

“Nice to meet you,” Molly replied, and they spent a few moments talking, with Ed mentioning that Oswald used to be mayor of Gotham. Then he mentioned how Oswald was wounded in the Gotham war, and as Ed layered on the compliments he felt like telling him to shut up. Ed had noticed the spark between him and Molly and was trying to help things along. The flattery he was laying on was making him blush. He had never been able to take compliments well. Then as Ed turned to Lee and said he was going to get more drinks, Oswald saw his chance to break away, snatching his cocktail from the bar and turning to Molly.

“I do a lot of my business from here, upstairs. I have an office upstairs...” his throat felt tight and he was sure he was breaking into a sweat, “Would... would you like to see it?”

“I'd love to!” Molly replied.

“Speak later, Ed,” Oswald said quickly, patting his shoulder, then he leaned on his cane and hurried off towards the door that led to the stairway and up to his private office, as Molly followed.

Ed turned to Lee with a look of surprise on his face

“Did Oswald just make a bold move on her?”

“I think he did!” Lee exclaimed, “I bet that took some courage. He must really like her.”

“I'd like to see him happy with someone, he's been alone far too long,” Ed replied, then he slipped an arm around Lee and pulled her closer, as a playful gleam came to his eyes and he whispered into her ear.

“Let's play a game when we get home... guess who's going to fuck you? Will it be me, or Riddler?”

Lee laughed hard as she pulled back and looked into his eyes.

“If it's Riddler, I fully expect him to pounce on me, skip the foreplay and come first,” she said.

“Or maybe it's me,” Ed told her, “And you'll be screaming the walls down while I'm down on you.”

She laughed again and shook her head.

“I'm in love with a crazy man!” she said, and they shared a kiss.

 

Oswald felt like his nerves were in shreds as he made his way up the stairs, then led her into the office and closed the door and locked it to ensure privacy.

“This is my office,” he said, and Molly looked around the impressive room with its open fire place and grand looking desk. The chair behind it looked more like a gothic throne. The walls were dark, but the lighting above was soft and he led her over to the other side of the room, where he stood by a wide window and looked out at the city.

“It's very nice up here,” she replied as she joined him, taking a sip from her glass then admiring the view of the city by night.

Oswald fell silent, holding his drink and looking down into the glass.

“Tell me about Fish Mooney,” said Molly softly.

He gave a sigh, then looked to the city as he started to speak.

“As a young man I found my way into the underworld by working for a powerful woman – Fish. It was always my ambition to become powerful in this city. But there was a time when I loved her. She was cruel and dominant and demanded so much more of me than holding her umbrella. I was young and flattered and excited by her, it became intensely intimate...” he paused. His heart ached as he recalled all the things he had never spoken about before. But being here with her, in the stillness of his office, it felt as if the words could flow.

“We had an accident... she got pregnant. I begged her to keep my baby but she terminated the pregnancy. She didn't even consult me, just handed back a letter I'd written her with a note on it saying the situation was resolved, like it was some petty issue that meant nothing to her. I hated her after that.”

Molly felt sure there was more.

“What happened after that?” she asked.

For a brief moment bitterness reflected in his gaze as he focused on the city view by nightfall.

“That was when I decided to take her place - I wasn't going to use her influence to climb the ladder to success, I was going to take _everything_ from her. I snitched on her over a crime she trusted me to stay silent about, she found out, she beat me so badly my leg was permanently damaged....” he drank some of his cocktail, “And eventually I did over throw her and I did take her place.”

Molly recalled all she had read in that letter and her heart ached for his sorrow and all he had been through.

“I'm so sorry you went though all that,” she said quietly.

Oswald turned his head and smiled.

“It was a long time ago, Molly. Let's talk about happier subjects...I'm in control of the entire Gotham underworld now. Whenever I think about what I've lost, or what it cost me to get here, I am thankful for what I have....” he hesitated, glancing back at his reflection in the darkened window. He had left his hat and coat downstairs, and he had run his fingers through his hair earlier to make sure it still looked presentable. But his glass eye still stared back at him. He looked a little stooped as he leaned on his cane, so he put his shoulders back, straightening up a little, trying to look his best as he turned to Molly.

“I'm trying to work out why you flattered me with...advances. I really don't see why you would do that to me,” he gave her a nervous smile, “An attractive woman like you from a powerful family could do so much better than chasing after a broken down old wreck like me!” he laughed, but she did not and his smile faded as a flash of panic came to his gaze.

“Believe me, Oswald – I will choose who I want to choose. And you could line up every attractive man in this city and ask me to pick one. _I'd still choose you_.”

He took a step closer, then looked down at the floor.

“I don't know what to say to that!”

“Don't,” she said softly, and she placed a gentle hand beneath his chin, raising his head as their eyes met, “You do it all the time, I say something nice that happens to be true and you look down at the floor. Stop doing that.”

She took a step closer, leaned in and kissed him, it was brief gentle kiss as their lips touched, then she drew back. Her kiss had sharply aroused him, he was getting hard and the thought made him feel a flicker of panic.

“It's been years since I've... been with anyone intimately,” he admitted, “I've been alone for a long time. It would probably be a disaster to take it further, a complete disappointment for you.”

She was aching to hold him again. When he had brought her up here, she had been turned on and she was still full of heat and dampness that was reaching her underwear, but he was so hesitant, all she wanted to do was hold him and kiss him again – but it was clear this situation would require patience. Oswald needed to be handled carefully, like the fragile soul that he was – the side to him that he hid from the rest of the world. Molly knew in a heartbeat she could wait for him, the wait would be worth it.

“Shall we sit down?” she asked, glancing over to a sofa on the other side of the room.

“I would love to,” Oswald agreed, “My leg is painful tonight.”

As she followed him over to the sofa, she noticed his limp was a little more pronounced tonight. He sat down and gave a sigh of relief, and she sat beside him, placing her drink next to his on the table in front of them. Oswald said nothing for a moment, explaining the situation had helped to ease his tension, but he still felt nervous as he took a slow breath and removed his monocle and put into his pocket, then he rubbed below his eye.

“Doesn't the eye put you off?” he asked quietly.

“You have lovely eyes!” Molly said as amusement crept into her voice, “I'd fancy you with both or without the glass one! They're both gorgeous!”

“Oh, please stop,” he said as he laughed and shook his head, again wondering how this woman could find him attractive.

“I mean it! You could take the glass one out if it's more comfortable.”

“No, I wouldn't want to do that. It looks horrible.”

Molly looked at him intently.

“You could never look horrible, not to me, Oswald. It's just a scar, a battle scar. Which is quite a sexy thought, actually. When I see a man with scars, I'm looking at a man who's lived and survived the very worst. Tell me how _that_ can be unattractive.”

His sighted eye registered surprise as he raised a dark eyebrow.

“You _like_ scars?”

Molly smiled.

“You bet I do!”

Oswald smiled back at her as more of his tension slipped away.

“I have many scars!” he confessed.

She shifted closer.

“Show me.”

He looked down, then remembered he didn't have to avoid her gaze, and he looked up again, turning his head and looking into her eyes.

“May I kiss you again?” he whispered.

“Please do,” she said softly.

He pulled her closer, aware that he was shaking as he closed his eyes and their lips touched, then their kiss deepened, as she held on to him and his tongue explored her mouth as his body yearned to know the rest of her. But then he pulled back sharply, breathing hard as he looked at her nervously.

“I think we should have another drink. I...I don't want to get too excited. As I said, it's been a long time.”

“You mean you think it might be over before you get started?”

Oswald felt a mild heat spread through his face as he nodded, looking at her awkwardly. She turned to face him, leaning back comfortably on the sofa.

“Do you wank, Oswald?”

He blinked.

“ _Wank?_ What's a wank?”

She laughed.

“You know, jerk off?”

His jaw briefly dropped as he stared at her, then as he saw the playful look in her eyes, he laughed, shaking his head at his own awkwardness. She was so easy to talk to, he just hadn't expected such a personal question.

“I believe most men do when they are living alone, it's to be expected.”

“And some still do when they live with their partners if they don't get enough!” Molly remarked, “If you use it, I think it's safe to say it still works. You're just a bit out of practise... with another person, I mean.”

“Yes, I probably am,” he said quietly, but this time he didn't look down at the floor.

“Are you waiting for another kiss?”

He smiled. This woman was so direct, he was almost used to her now, and the more time he spent with her, the easier it became to get closer. It felt as if all walls he had built around himself over the years were starting to crumble, and it felt wonderful. He leaned closer, then reached for her, and she welcomed him into her arms with a warm and passionate kiss. Then he pulled back and she saw hesitation in his gaze.

“Did... did you want to go further?”

“Do you want to?”

Oswald swallowed hard.

“Yes,” he said in a hushed voice.

Molly pulled him closer, kissed him again and they fell back against the sofa. She could feel him hard through the fabric of his suit, he was so aroused by their sudden closeness that it wouldn't take much for him to lose control.

“We'll take his slowly,” she said softly as she looked down at him and brushed a lock of dark hair from his eyes, “I won't demand anything of you, Oswald, let's just enjoy being together.”

He was breathing hard and his hand was shaking as he tugged on the zip at the back of her dress, as she pushed it off her shoulders, his hands slid over her black lace bra, she helped him out as he reached for the clasp, unhooking it and letting her breasts fall free.

“You are _so_ beautiful!” Oswald gasped, then he pulled her closer, pushing his face against her body, kissing her breasts, inhaling the scent of her skin.

She was kissing his throat and loosening his tie and as she slid it off, he slid a hand up her dress, pushing it to her hips. She was unbuttoning his shirt now and he let her do it, his hand resting on her hip as he watched her face, watching for her reaction as she pushed his shirt open and saw his scars for the first time. She paused for a moment, looking at his exposed upper body, the old bullet wounds, the knife scars. Then she looked up at him and met his gaze and as her own darkened with desire he felt a huge rush of relief to see she hadn't been staring at his scars in shock... it was admiration.

Now he fully understood this was no dream, Molly really did desire him... He stopped questioning it, joyfully accepting the truth as he looked into her eyes and blinked away tears.

“ _Oh Molly!”_ he said breathlessly, and he slid his hands down to her underwear, pulling it downward and then his hand slipped between her legs. She certainly _did_ desire him, her body spoke for her. As he slid a finger inside hot wetness that soaked his hand she gave a moan and thrust against him.

“ _Yes please, touch me, Oswald...”_

She didn't need to tell him twice. He drew his wet hand away, grasping at her hips, pulling her closer to him, and as she moved up and lowered her thighs to his face, he pulled her down on to his mouth, tasting her and then flicking his tongue over her most sensitive spot, she was shaking and saying his name and as he breathed warm against her and pressed his face against her body, she thrust against him, on edge and desperate for release. He teased her slowly, alternating between his tongue and the tip of his pointed nose – something he had discovered years back while he was Fish – and it drove her wild.

“ _Fuck, Oswald...”_ she gasped, _“That's so good!”_

He kept a firm grip on her hip as he pulled her downwards, this time his mouth was hard on her, firm and demanding orgasm. She tensed and started to hit her peak and he pushed two fingers firmly inside her, then as she came he felt her walls contract hard as she ground against him, breathless and shaking as she gave a soft cry.

Her legs weakened as he withdrew his fingers and she slid down and lay beside him, then as she reached for him, she ran her fingers through his hair as they kissed. Her eyes were still glazed as she found her voice again.

“Believe me, you have no problem holding back,” she murmured.

As her hand slid down his body, their eyes were locked, their gaze not breaking as he reached down, tugging at his belt and then his zip. By the time her hand had reached his groin, he had freed his erection and as she shifted down the sofa and lowered her head, he gave a gasp, closing his eyes as he felt her take him in her mouth. He was so hard it had become almost painful, but he was determined not to lose control at the first suck. Her lips slid up and down his length, she sucked gently and he ran his hands through her hair as he breathed hard.

“ _Oh god yes, Molly, I'm going to...”_

She sucked harder, placing her hands on his arms as she steadied him, as the orgasm hit and all he could think about was was coming into her mouth he gave a sharp cry and the rush that washed through his body blocked out everything as his mind went into free fall. She was still there, holding on to him, his only reminder that the world around him still existed as his mind went into free fall and she kept him in her mouth, taking every last throb, every last drop that spilled from his body. As she released him and shifted back up the sofa to lay beside him, he was perspiring and still shaking from the intensity of it. And as she looked into his eyes and smiled, he smiled back. _By a miracle, this beautiful woman he thought would never look at him twice, was actually crazy about him..._

“ _Oh Molly,”_ he said as his voice shook, then as he reached for her and they embraced, he pressed his face against her shoulder and gave a small sob.

“I never thought... I just assumed I'd never have this again, not with anyone... Thank you so much for...” suddenly he was stuck for words.

Her heart was pounding as in that moment, she swore she could read his mind.

“For loving you?” she asked softly.

“ _Yes!”_ he whispered.

She brushed a tear from his eye.

“You had my heart from the moment I saw your picture,” she told him, “I was on the ship, crossing the Atlantic. I looked up your name and as soon as I saw you, something happened in my heart. I knew it for sure when I first met you.”

He held her tighter as he started to smile.

“I do hope you father won't object to us.”

Molly laughed softly as her eyes sparkled again.

“Dad will be ecstatic! He's been trying to push me together with you since we arrived! He saw that look in my eyes, and in yours. He knew right away. He stayed home tonight to give us a chance to be alone.”

“Oh, I see!” Oswald said in surprise, “Well I suppose I don't have to worry, then.”

“No, you don't have to worry about anything, Oswald,” she promised him, then she kissed him again and they rested together in quiet closeness, warmed by the afterglow of all that had happened. Oswald lay there looking up at the ceiling of his office with a joyful gleam in his undamaged eye as he thought back on the past – he had never had much luck with women – his luck with men hadn't been much better, either. He had given up on finding love. That had all changed tonight, changed with a kiss from Molly MacQueen...

But she was wrong about him having nothing to worry about. He didn't want to voice his concerns aloud and ruin a perfect night, so he just stayed beside her, in her arms and said nothing about the lurking threat posed by Valeska, as yet unseen – but a threat that certainly wouldn't remain in the shadows forever...

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

They left the club before midnight, just as Ed had turned around and caught Oswald walking out of the place with Molly, and he saw they were holding hands and Oswald was smiling, he wasn't looking down at the floor for once, his head was held high and his shoulders were back.

“I do believe what ever went on up there was a success!” he said as he started to smile.

Lee was finishing up her last drink.

“Good for him, now leave his private life alone!”

Ed was still smiling as he watched them walk out.

“I'm just glad he's got a private life again,” he said sincerely.

 

The ride home in the car was very different to the journey to the club that had been taken in awkward near silence. Victor could barely bring himself to glance in the mirror after spotting what was going on in the back – Penguin was kissing Molly MacQueen, and they got so passionate his top hat tumbled to the floor, then his cane slipped from where he had rested it against his seat. The pair of them were making out like teenagers. Victor said nothing, keeping his eyes firmly on the road.

When they reached home, Oswald got out and Molly followed, he thanked Victor for the ride and then took Molly by the hand and led her up to the door of the mansion. He unlocked it and they went inside.

As the door closed they looked at each other, not saying a word as they both smiled. Then Oswald took off his coat and hat and hung them up and Molly took her jacket off too. Oswald was still smiling, he was feelingso much more confident now. In a short space of time, the events up in the office had done more than start to mend his self esteem – it was as if the years of damage had fallen away. _Scars? She liked them. Glass eye? She didn't mind it. Even his limp, it didn't put her off..._ He had never known that one day he would meet a woman who would love all of the things about him that he had loathed. If he had known this was coming, he would have felt so much better about himself, knowing there was someone out there who would think him desirable, and love him regardless of all the scores of imperfections that he had seen as obstacles.

He felt brave as he reached for her hand. It struck him as ironic that fighting in the Gotham war had been something he had not thought about, and he had never laid claim to being a brave man. _But reaching for her hand?_ Yes, that had indeed taken courage, as had what he said next, clasping her hand as he looked to the stairs and then back at her as he spoke softly.

“Shall we?” he knew he sounded nervous.

“Yes,” she replied, and he gave her hand a squeeze, then they made their way up the stairs together, then along the upper hallway, all the way to the door of the master bedroom. Oswald opened it and smiled warmly.

“After you, my dear,” he told her, and she went in first, then he closed the door and locked it and turned on the lamp next to the bed, bathing the room in a soft glow. As she joined him, he took hold of her hands and looked into her eyes.

“Are you.... _sure_ you would like to come to my bed tonight, Molly?”

She smiled and kissed him in reply and his heart raced with joy.

“I want to see all of you,” she whispered as her hands slid up his shirt, pushing his jacket from his shoulders, “I want you naked on that bed, let me see every inch of you. Let me cover with you kisses, Oswald.”

Then he watched as she stripped off her dress, then her underwear. The sight of her naked was getting him hard again, but this time it was not happening so sharply. He was finding new confidence in his body now, and in his ability to last longer than he expected, even after years of being alone. She got into bed and sat there, watching as he stood over her. He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, meeting her gaze with a proud smile as she saw the way her eyes roamed over his many scars. Then he unbuckled his belt, and finally sat on the bed as he stripped off the remainder of his clothing, needing to take off his shoes sitting down because of his damaged leg. Then he got in bed beside her and rested against the pillows. He felt a flicker of nervousness as he spoke again, pulling the covers up to his waist as they sat together.

“This is like a dream come true for me!” he exclaimed, those words had come from his heart as he blinked away tears, “From the moment I saw you...”

“I felt the same,” she told him, I saw your picture and it was like a light came on in my life after too long in the darkness.”

Then he remembered something.

“We should be careful. Obviously I wasn't expecting this to happen. I don't have any protection tonight, it's been years since I've shared intimacy with anyone.”

“I'm sure we can manage,” she assured him, then she looked down at the covers.

“Show me your leg.”

If anyone else had asked that question, he would have reacted with defensive anger, but Molly wanted to see and he knew none of his damage or scars would be met with anything less than admiration. He folded the covers back, exposing the whole of his body. He felt her gaze like physical heat as she took in the sight of him, then she moved downward, gently rubbing his foot as she placed a tender kiss on his twisted ankle. Her kisses didn't stop there, she traced a path of them up his leg to his knee and then as he bent his leg and parted his thighs wider to try and ease the urgent ache that was building in his groin as his hardness increased, she gave his knee a gentle squeeze and placed another kiss on it. As she looked up at him, pride shone in his eyes as he smiled. If he was right about all the things she loved about his faults, she would be _thrilled_ with what he was about to tell her...

“I mostly use the cane when I walk,” he said, “The handle also contains a blade for protection. _But I also own a leg brace_.”

“Wear it for me tomorrow!” she said with genuine excitement, and Oswald's face flushed as he laughed hard.

“I thought you might like that! Your tough smashed up man in a leg brace! Is that a more arousing thought than my cane, Molly?”

She giggled as she nodded her head, and to his great surprise, now she was blushing, too. He didn't have the chance to say more as she crawled back up the bed slowly, pausing to kiss the many scars that marked his naked body. Every kiss was like a seal of approval, a reminder that all he had once thought ugly was beautiful to her... As she sat beside him and rested on their shared pillows, she turned on her side and gazed deeply into his eyes.

“I've never been so sure of anything in my life,” she murmured, and they shared another kiss.

“But we don't have any protection,” he reminded her, “I am very cautious. I would hate for an accident to happen -”

A touch of her finger to his lips had silenced him.

“If it did,” she reminded him, “Remember this - I'm _not_ Fish Mooney.”

 _She would have his child?_ He had just realised what she meant, and he felt tearful again as emotion threatened to drown him. But now she had turned her attention elsewhere, between his open legs as he hoped it wouldn't be a struggle to hold back. She gently caressed his balls, then as he felt his hardness ache the head of his cock leaked with the need to come, and she avoided touching the sensitive tip as she gave a gentle squeeze to the base of his erection. Oswald gave a gasp as he leaned hard against the pillows. He had never been like this with anyone, not naked and his scars completely exposed,with his legs spread and such attention being given to his deepest needs.

“Don't come yet,” she said, and she started to gently move her hand slowly up and down his erection. Oswald gave a sigh as he closed his eyes and raked at the sheets with his fingertips.

“Oswald I want you to watch,” Molly said, and he opened his eyes and looked down, feeling mesmerised by the sight of her hand moving up and down his hardness so slowly and gently.

“You have a lovely cock,” she said softly, and her other hand caressed his balls, but as he tensed, she drew it away.

“Calm down,” she said, “Let's make this last...”

Oswald gave a soft moan and briefly closed his eyes, then he looked down again, watching her as she knelt between his open legs, all of her attention on the most private part of his body, and done so gently, so lovingly. He had never felt so vulnerable or exposed, but it felt so right, his fears were gone now. As he watched her, saw her hand on his body and felt her gentle caress, he breathed harder as she began to speak.

“I love the sight of you like this, Oswald. I think your scars are beautiful. Just like you are, a beautiful man with a beautiful heart... I'm not surprised I fell for you so fast, you're everything I ever dreamed of finding in a man...”

He gave a gasp as his hardness throbbed.

“Do you want to come now?”

“ _Please!”_ he said breathlessly.

She laid beside him, with her arm around him as her other hand kept up a steady rhythm, taking it a little faster as he panted hard.

“That's it, Oswald, hold it back a little longer... good boy...”

He gave a whine and trembled, instantly gratified at her praise.

“Good boy,” she said again, using the words she knew had hit the spot, “You can come now.”

As he threw his head back and gave a desperate gasp, he throbbed in her hand and spurted fast and hot as he hit his peak, while he was coming she kept her arm around him, holding him in a close embrace.

“ _Molly!”_ he said breathlessly, and he throbbed in her hand again as another spurt of white pumped out. She kept her hand on him firmly until the last throb had faded out, then she drew him into her arms and they lay naked together on the bed with the covers off, he was still breathing hard as he looked into her eyes.

“ _Oh my dearest Molly,”_ he whispered, and he clung to her tightly as his breathing slowed, along with his racing heartbeat. The last thing he recalled was her placing a tender kiss on his lips, then another on the scar below his blinded eye, and then Oswald Cobblepot, who had once believed he would never find love, fell deeply asleep in the arms of the woman who adored him for all that made him the man known as Penguin – including his damage, and all of his scars.

 

When morning came, Molly woke up and reached for Oswald, but he was already up. She sat up in bed, watching him with interest as he stood in front of the mirror in a sharp suit with one hand raised and pressing on his lower eye lid as he used his other hand to take out his glass eye. As he removed it, he placed it in a small container and then looked back at the mirror, pausing to rub at his eyelid. Then he saw her reflected behind him, sitting up in bed, looking beautiful, naked but for the sheets that covered her from the waist down. Oswald turned sharply, placing a hand over his empty eye socket.

“Don't look!”

“You think I've never seen someone take a glass eye out before?” she said in surprise, then she smiled at the memory, “My Dad knows a guy who has a glass eye. He takes it out down the pub, pops it in his mate's pint! Gives him a fright every single time he does it!”

Oswald stared at her.

“He does that in front of other people?”

“Yes! Maybe you should pull that prank in the Iceberg Lounge. Do it to your friend Ed! Put it in his beer when he's not looking... Or maybe Victor? Oh, I can just imagine the look on his face!” she laughed.

Oswald slowly lowered his hand from his empty eye socket. She was still looking at him the same way. No staring, just seeing him as he really was, and there was no change in her at all...

“You really don't mind this?”

“Why should I mind?”

“I slept with it in last night, I usually take it out before bed, clean it and put it back in next morning. Otherwise my eyelid can get irritated.”

“Then you should have taken it out!” she exclaimed.

He looked at her apologetically as he gave a small shrug.

“I didn't want to spoil a wonderful night.”

“And you haven't spoiled this morning,” she reminded him, “Take the damned thing out when you need to. I don't want you getting a sore eyelid, if it gets infected you won't be able to put it back in for a long while – I won't mind but you will!”

She got out of bed, intending to head for the shower, but then as his gaze fell on her naked body, she smiled. Her own gaze roamed from his spiked up hair to his face then down his dark suit and then she gave a gasp as a look of delight came to her eyes.

“Oh my god you're wearing it! Oswald, I love it!”

He threw his head back and laughed hard as she embraced him.

“It's only my leg brace!”

“It looks good on you,” she replied, and then she held him tighter and they shared a kiss.

“I wore it in the old days,” he added as he pulled back just enough to meet her gaze and murmur softly to her, _“During the Gotham war -”_

His words were stolen by a passionate kiss that covered his mouth. For a moment he missed the convenience of his cane and staggered but as she turned him around and pulled him down to the bed, he laughed.

“I guess I was inviting trouble by saying that!”

“You certainly have, my brave man!”

As he lay there looking into her eyes, he realised their faces were just a fraction apart, and she didn't mind at all that his right eye socket was empty. The last fear he had clung to was gone. He didn't have to hide anything from Molly.

“But we will have to wait until later on,” he told her, “I have to introduce your father to a few more people today, and he has to arrange the first shipment. When we return, my afternoon is free. I was thinking perhaps I could take you out and show you some of this great city. Would you like that?”

She smiled.

“Yes please, Oswald!”

He reluctantly freed himself from her embrace and got up, then, still limping but walking a little easier thanks to the brace, he took the glass eye into the bathroom, rinsed it under cold water and then raised his upper eye lid and set it into place, pausing to study its placement before placing a fingertip against it and then moving it a fraction. Molly had joined him, by now he had put on his monocle.

“I'll see you soon, my dear,” he told her, then he gave her a kiss and as she turned on the shower, he left the room.

 

A short while later, they were in a warehouse down by the docks as Oswald introduced him to the guys who would be dealing with the shipments, and Kane gave them necessary contact numbers. Then they left the warehouse and began to walk away from the docks, it was quite a distance to the waiting car, and as they walked – Kane taking his time remembering Oswald had a limp – it suddenly seemed a good time to speak up.

“Kane, I need to tell you something.”

Oswald stopped walking and so did Kane, who turned around and looked at him with a smile on his face.

“You're seeing my daughter.”

Oswald's jaw dropped and Kane chuckled.

“How did you know?” Oswald exclaimed, “We were so quiet last night!”

“I heard you talking this morning before you left your room,” he replied, “And I must say, I'm glad you and her have found each other. I can tell you've been alone for a long while. She was stuck in never ending circle of mourning Liam. Maybe the two of you stand a real chance of happiness. I hope it works out, I really mean that.”

And as he smiled and warmth shone in his eyes, he placed a hand on Oswald's shoulder.

“She couldn't have made a better choice,” he added.

“Thank you, Kane,” Oswald replied, smiling back at him.

Then his phone rang.

“Excuse me, this will be business,” Oswald said politely, and walked a short distance away to answer the call. It was Victor Zsasz.

“Penguin, I just got a call from one of our guys – he said there was a raid – on one of your warehouses, south of the river... They stripped the place of guns. Someone is stockpiling.”

The phone shook in Oswald's hand as he gripped it so tight his knuckles turned white and his eyes blazed with fury.

“ _That place was secure!”_ he fumed, _“How the fuck -”_

“It was an early morning raid and they shot the guards. The next shift came in to take over and found the bodies bleeding out and the crates missing. It's not like you don't have more warehouses, but we should worry - I think it was Velaska.”

“ _Of course it was fucking Velaska!”_ he yelled, _“Find the bastard! I want his head for this!”_

“That's what everyone is trying to do,” Victor reminded him, “Including me. Don't yell, Penguin. I'll keep looking... I'll personally look, right after I take you and MacQueen back to the house. Please chill out.”

“ _TELL MY MEN TO FIND HIM NOW!”_ Oswald yelled, then as the call ended, he turned around, his face a mask of rage – and that rage turned to alarm as he remembered Kane was with him. Kane had just taken a walk over to join him, and now he looked at him intently as darkness shone in his gaze, a sure sign the friendly family man and father of Molly was sensing trouble and ready to slide back into mobster mode.

“Sounds like you've got trouble.”

Oswald lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, blowing the smoke out slowly as he willed his temper to subside.

“It's containable.”

“I'd still like to know about it.”

Oswald smoked some more, gathered his thoughts and then began to explain.

“Jeremiah Velaska. He's the problem. He was recently busted out of Arkham and knowing him, he's going to try and grab a big slice of Gotham turf. Most likely, he'll try for mine. My people are looking for him, but he's smart and he's elusive. This morning he raided a warehouse a few miles from here and loaded up on guns – _my_ guns! I didn't tell you about him before because I thought the matter would be easily resolved. I hope this doesn't damage our import arrangement.”

Kane's green eyes widened in surprise

“Of course not! The agreement stands. But I consider you a friend, Oswald. And the fact that you're involved with my daughter as well as being in business with me, means an enemy of yours is also _my_ enemy. Can this man be bargained with? Can he turn this around in anyway to make a mutually satisfying agreement for both sides if we put a gun to his head and gave him two choices, like die or cave in to our terms?”

Oswald shook his head. He looked to the buildings in the distance, recalling the devastation of Velaska's bombs long ago.

“No, he's a destructive bastard.”

“Then he needs to be eliminated.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Oswald finished his cigarette and then gave a heavy sigh.

“I've got my best men searching for him. I should arrange extra protection for Molly -”

“ _Molly?”_ he laughed

Oswald stared at him.

“Your daughter must be protected, what's so amusing about that, Kane?”

Kane chuckled and shook his head.

“Molly is very much like her old man. She's like me in _every_ way. You just haven't see that side of her. She doesn't need a body guard, she's her own protection. When Liam was shot she was shattered, a wreck – until the funeral was over. Then she hunted those men down like dogs and put bullets in their skulls for killing the man she loved. She's trained to handle herself if the situation demands it. I had to make sure of that. When she was eleven years old a rival gang leader sent some men to our home to kill me. My people took them out and later I buried him in the foundation of a motorway flyover. But after that, I had to be sure my daughter could handle unexpected trouble. She can fight and shoot so well she's a better shot than some of my best guys – and I employ the very best!”

“I didn't know any of this about Molly,” Oswald said, and his heart quietly glowed with pride at her hidden talents.

Kane placed his hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Listen to me, Oswald – business makes us partners. Friendship counts for something too. You have my men at your disposal. My boys and yours, together. I'm sure we can work this out. Your shipments are being threatened and those are my boats. I want to work with you to deal with the Velaska problem.”

Oswald nodded.

“I would be grateful for a swift end to this threat,” he admitted, “Yes, Kane. Your help in this matter is appreciated.”

Kane smiled and patted his shoulder.

“Good man, that's what I like to hear – we have to stand together in times of trouble. It's the best way.”

Then the two men walked back to the waiting car. As they got in the back, Victor glanced back at his boss.

“We will find Velaska,” he promised.

“My men will be joining with yours on this matter,” Kane added.

“Good,” Victor replied, “I'm glad to hear it, Mr MacQueen.”

As they drove away, Oswald suddenly remembered the _other_ matter of protection, the one he really didn't want to bring up in front of Molly's father. He pulled a note pad from his pocket and quickly scribbled something on it, tore off the page, folded it and passed it to Victor.

“What's this, Penguin?” he asked as he focused on the road.

“I need you to stop off somewhere and get something... it's just a shopping list.”

Victor glanced back at him in the mirror and noticed he looked a little awkward. Then seeing the road ahead was clear, he glanced at the paper. The only item on the list was condoms. Then he realised, this was Penguin who needed them – shy and awkward at the best of times, and certainly too shy to mention it in front of the father of the woman he was dating, and he certainly wouldn't go buying them in front of Molly...

“I'll pick that up for you,” he replied.

“Thank you, Victor, I shall be busy showing Molly some of the better parts of town this afternoon,” he replied, “I won't have time to stop off for certain items.”

“Okay,” said Victor, still watching the road as they took the turn that would lead back to the mansion.

As they drove on, Victor glanced at his boss in the mirror, and as Oswald caught the bemused look on his face he glared at him, a silent warning, _don't you dare, Victor, not in front of Kane..._ Victor focused on the road again, hiding his amusement as he spoke up.

“So boss, what kind do you want me to get? Medium, large... or _Penguin size?_ ”

Oswald's face turned scarlet.

“The regular kind, Victor!”

“I'd better get a large pack, so you don't run out.”

Oswald's eyes narrowed. Amusement danced in Victor's gaze as they headed back towards the mansion.

“What is it you need to get?” asked Kane, and Victor smirked.

“Lightbulbs,” Oswald said quickly as his face flushed and in that moment, Victor wasn't sure if it was his awkwardness or his anger that prompted it.

“I'll definitely get a very large pack,” Victor added, “So you don't have to send me out to get them again - when _I_ need to be out there looking for Velaska, instead of wasting valuable time buying my boss _lightbulbs_!”

He caught a sparkle of amusement in Victor's eyes again, and as he glanced at him, Oswald's anger melted away as he briefly smiled, shook his head, then looked towards the window. He should have known better than to put Victor in a position where he could tease him. He knew him well enough by now, his hit man had a sense of humour...

 

After returning to the house, Oswald and Kane met with Molly in the dining room and they had lunch together. Oswald brought up the subject of Velaska. He noticed Molly didn't seem at all alarmed as she listened to their plans to combine forces to handle the problem. When she said she agreed that it sounded like the best course of action, Oswald knew at once Molly had been part of many conversations regarding gangland issues back home – there was nothing new or shocking about it and she certainly wasn't worried at the thought of Velaska posing a lingering threat. She mentioned to her father they should both start carrying guns. She said it like it was no big deal, then told Oswald she was looking forward to seeing the sights. And just like that, in the blink of an eye, all worries were briefly forgotten as Oswald's heart warmed through with love and he returned her smile.

Leaving Kane back at the mansion to make phone calls home that were both business and also personal, Molly and Oswald left the house and were driven into the city, where Victor left them and Oswald said he would call later when they needed a ride home.

 

They held hands as they walked through the streets of the city steeped in so much history. Some of the buildings were old, others clearly modern, but mostly, the place seemed full of age and grandeur that had faded here and there, Molly saw old walls scorched by fire and piles of bricks from crumbled, war damaged buildings. Oswald talked about the battle. As she listened, her love for him deepened as she walked through the streets of Gotham with the man who had fought to own this town, and then to save it. Their wanderings eventually led them down to the river, and as they stood together watching the chilly water flow by, Oswald looked across it to the other side as memories crowded his thoughts.

“Mother would have liked you very much,” he said warmly as he turned his head and their eyes met, then his smile faded, “Your father mentioned you killed the men who were responsible for your fiancé's death. I killed the man I held responsible for my Mother's loss. There's a certain satisfaction in revenge, but nothing can replace a loved one, don't you think?”

“I know what you mean,” Molly replied, “That's why life is so precious. Love is so precious, too.”

He felt his heart miss a beat. What she said next confirmed all he had dared hope for.

“I just realised, Oswald... the Atlantic reaches the shores of Ireland. All my life, you've been at the other end of that body of water, at the place where the sea meets with the river and flows into Gotham. You were always there and it took me all this time to find you.”

As he looked into her eyes, Molly was ready to speak from her heart, to say the words that had, looking back to the first time she had seen his picture, been inevitable: _He was the one, they were meant to be..._

“I'll love you forever, Oswald,” she said softly.

He stepped closer, joy shining in his gaze as he smiled brightly at her and finally, those words trapped in his heart were free to be heard.

“I love you too, Molly! I feel the same way, I've never been so certain about anything in my whole life!”

He pulled her close and as they stood by the river and the water flowed by, they shared a deep and lasting kiss. As he finally broke free of that moment in her arms, Oswald blinked away tears of joy as he took hold of her hands and looked into her eyes.

“What we have is so wonderful!” he exclaimed, “I want us to be like this forever, Molly! Please, promise me you won't be going back to Ireland when your Dad leaves?”

“Oswald, I promise I am staying here with you,” she vowed, “I think my Dad knows that will happen. He's glad for me. My Mum wants me to be happy, too. Me being here on the other side of the Atlantic is a small price to pay to for them to know I'm truly happy again. And my Dad really likes you! Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm staying with you. We have something precious and we need to build on that.”

“Yes, we certainly do!” Oswald replied as joy shone in his gaze.

As they turned away from the water and began to walk back the way they came, his mind was already made up: _He loved Molly MacQueen. She was the girl he was going to marry..._

 

On arriving back at the house, Oswald met up with Kane, and he went with him to the study to discuss the outcome of arrangements for the first shipment. While he was gone, Molly hurried upstairs and went into the master bedroom, where she waited for Oswald. On leaving him as they had entered the house, she had whispered, _See you upstairs_ , and he had given her a nervous glance that made her heart ache for his shyness, and then he had smiled excitedly and she had seen that sparkle in his eyes that told her he was just as impatient as she was for them to be together again.

She laid down on the bed, realised the pillow carried the scent of her lover's hair and then she hugged it tightly, smiling as she waited for him to join her.

Downstairs, business was concluded, and then Kane said he would be going into the city to meet up with Ryan and a few of his men for the afternoon.

“I hope you and Molly have a nice time too,” he added, giving him a wink. Oswald smiled and looked away, then as he looked back at him, he felt he had to tell his new associate and friend the truth.

“Molly said she's thinking of staying on here, with me – after you return to Ireland. I do hope you have no objection.”

Kane regarded him warmly.

“Oswald,” he said, “That look she gives you, I know it well. It's the look her mother gave me many years ago when I met her for the first time. It's love. Of course I don't object!”

Gratitude shone in his eyes.

“Thank you for understanding,” he replied.

Just then Victor walked in. He saw Kane was with Penguin and briefly froze, realising this would be awkward – only because Penguin was so shy about personal matters.

“Those _lightbulbs_ -”

“Would you take Kane into town?” Oswald said quickly, “He needs to meet with his associates.”

“Sure,” Victor replied, “Let's go, Kane.”

“See you later, Oswald,” Kane said, and he left the study.

There was a brief pause, and then Oswald heard Victor further up the hallway, saying something about he forgot to give the boss a message. Then he hurried back to the open door of the study.

“ _Lightbulbs!”_ he exclaimed, and tossed the pack of condoms to Oswald, who caught them and quickly stuffed the box into his pocket. Then Victor went back up the hallway, left the house with Kane and door closed behind them.

Now the house was silent save for the ticking of the clock. But Oswald knew he wasn't alone as he thought of Molly and he longed to be with her again – this time, properly.

He left the study and made his way towards the staircase, limping a little harder as his leg ached from the walk he had taken down to the river. He looked up the flight of stairs and then began to make the climb, as he felt suddenly nervous. He was about to take her to his bed and make love to her. He hadn't made love for years, and that thought put his heart in his mouth as he broke into a sweat.

By the time he reached the top of the stairs, his sight was set on the bedroom door at the end of the hallway. He began to walk towards it, silently cursing the pain in his damaged leg as he hoped it wouldn't play a part in wrecking this momentous occasion. If it had been anyone but her, he doubted he would have had the courage to go through with this. To make love now after so many years alone would have been a thought he could not have entertained – but Molly was in there, she was waiting for him, and she made him feel invincible. Because it was her, he had the courage to try, like the brave man she believed him to be. He reached the door, took a deep breath, reminded himself again that his love was waiting for him and he went inside, his shoulders back and his head held high, with a smile on his face, longing to take her in his arms as he remembered again that she truly loved him.

 

Far away from the city in a large, run down house out in the countryside, Velaska's men were unloading the stolen crates of weapons. Jeremiah watched from an upstairs window, then turned back to a map laid out on the desk nearby. He traced a finger along the route that took up a sizeable chunk of Gotham and smiled as his icy gaze set cold on thoughts of his target:

Penguin was, for now, king of the underworld. His slice of turf was the largest and most profitable, and the best choice of territory to choose to steal. Jeremiah already knew how he would do it, and the time would be soon...

He paused to reflect on the past. He had nothing in common with Penguin, the two of them could never be allies, it would be like trying to mix oil and water to blend as one. _Impossible._ And it would be so very easy to take his territory, once he was dead.

He already had the plan formulated:

Abduct Penguin. Keep him for a few days, purely for entertainment, because his long stay in Arkham had been tedious and indulging in some torture would be the perfect activity to lift his mood. For now, Penguin believed he was safe and secure, that his territory would hold forever. He would soon find out he was wrong about that... The thought of having Penguin as his prisoner, screaming and bleeding and begging for mercy brought a smile to his face. It was time to show him who was really boss around here, who would be boss when he was gone...

He planned to torture the little bird man until he could take no more – but he would make sure he lived long enough to kneel at his own deep, open grave and know that the man who put the gun to the back of his head and pulled the trigger was named Jeremiah Velaska...

He had heard Penguin had recently found love with the daughter of an Irish gang boss named MacQueen. He had also heard Molly MacQueen was a rather attractive woman. He was sure he would find out _exactly_ what she was like soon enough, once Penguin was dead... Jeremiah laughed darkly as he smiled at the thought of his plans, then he looked down at the map again, picturing his own name all over that huge slice of Gotham City...

“ _Enjoy your time with her while you can, Penguin,”_ he murmured, _“Your time is almost up. I'm coming for you...”_

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 

As Oswald entered the bedroom, Molly was sitting on the bed waiting for him. He closed the door and locked it, then sat down beside her.

“Hello Molly,” he said softly, smiling as his face flushed and he suddenly felt shy all over again, and then he gave her a gentle, lingering kiss before pulling back, “I think it's time I made love to you properly,” he added.

As he saw deep longing in her eyes, his heart raced and his hands shook as he took off his jacket, then his tie. While he was undressing, so was Molly and he couldn't look at her because nervousness had just taken over.

“I'm going to get in bed and wait for you,” she said softly in his ear, then as she kissed his cheek she slid her hand down his leg and over the brace he wore.

A nervous smile appeared on his face as he gave her a glance, then he saw she was naked and as she slipped beneath the covers, he took off his leg brace, then his shoes and then tugged hard on his zip and hoped he hadn't damaged the stitching to the expensive fabric, because his hands felt clumsy. He reached down to his jacket, opened up the condoms and took one out. He was already hard, but putting it on seemed to take a while because his hands were still shaking. Then he got in bed beside her and cautiously reached for her.

“I do hope I don't disappoint you,” he whispered.

“You could never do that,” she promised him softly.

Molly welcomed his embrace, pulling him closer as the heat of their bodies met warm and close and she ran her hands over his shoulders, then placed a kiss to a scar on his chest. As they lay together side by side, Oswald said nothing for a moment, he looked at every detail of her face, then he leaned closer, kissing her as he rolled her on to her back. As her soft hair fanned out against the pillow and he saw a flush to her face, it was like a fire had lit in his soul.

“ _Oh Molly!”_ he whispered urgently, then as she welcomed him between her parted thighs, she clung to him and gave a gasp as he entered her with a single, firm thrust.

“ _Oh yes, Oswald.. take me!”_ she said breathlessly.

That was all he needed to hear to remember what it felt like to make love, and as he began to move slowly, he kissed her deeply, then came up for air, his gaze locked with hers and he thrust harder, she cried out as her hips moved in rhythm with his body as his breath came sharp and fast.

“ _I love you...”_ he gasped.

Her hands were sliding up his shoulders, her fingers tangling in his hair, her legs were wrapped around his hips. Oswald slowed again, holding back as he willed himself not to finish too quickly, he was aching with the need to come, but not yet...his confidence was growing and he had the urge to make her feel even more aroused... His face was a fraction from hers as he looked into her eyes. She was moving her hips beneath him, desperate for him to take her harder.

“ _How does that feel?”_ he whispered, _“Your battle scarred man is deep inside you...”_

“ _Oh god yes! Oswald, take me... fuck me!”_

There was a flicker of victory in his gaze as he realised how close she was to orgasm. He kept his movements careful and slow, holding back, and whispered to her again.

“ _I know how to make you come...look at me, Molly, all these scars I have... bullet wounds, knife scars...”_

As he spoke those words, she was looking at his body, and her hand had just slipped between her legs and he could feel her fingers moving desperately just above their joined bodies. He moved against her again, keep his rhythm slow as his spiked hair dampened and shaded his eyes and he breathed heavily, _“I'm tougher than I look, Molly. I've survived so much damage... my shattered leg. My eye... shot out in the Gotham war....”_ he gave a gasp as he thrust a little harder, _“I'm full of battle scars...”_

Molly gave a sharp cry as she climaxed, and the feel of her walls contracting around his hardness was almost too much. Before the last wave of her pleasure faded out he shifted position, putting more weight on his damaged leg. _It would ache later, but it would be worth it,_ he decided, as he slammed against her, taking her hard, making her cry out with every thrust as he took her more brutally.

“ _Oh Molly....I'm coming!”_ he slammed against her again, then one last, hard thrust was all he needed and he throbbed inside her as she felt it too and clung tightly to him, gasping his name.

As they separated they both rolled on their backs, recovering their breath. It had been passionate lovemaking, inducing sweat and breathlessness and intense release for both of them. Oswald briefly got up to dispose of the condom, then he got back into bed, thankful to take the weight off his leg again. Energetic lovemaking was something his old injury was not used to - yet - but in time, he was sure that would improve. As they rested for a moment, Molly turned her head and looked at him with a mix of love and surprise in her gaze.

“You talked me to orgasm!”

“I have been taking note of what you find arousing,” he replied proudly, “Clearly I got it right!”

She laughed.

“Oh my god, yes you did!”

Love reflected in his gaze as he kissed her gently.

“I think I can say that was satisfying for both of us?”

“You're full of surprises, Oswald! That was amazing!”

On hearing those words, he was sure he had never felt so accomplished as a lover. He had made love for the first time in years, and completely satisfied her. He reached for his cigarettes, lit one and inhaled, then passed it to Molly.

“I feel wonderful!” Oswald declared.

She smoked the cigarette than passed it back to him as they shared the afterglow of what had been passionate lovemaking.

“It was wonderful!” Molly exclaimed, “Oswald, you've got nothing to worry about – you wasn't even out of practise, that was the best!”

As he smiled, his sighted eye sparkled as his face radiated joy.

“This is the best day of my life!”

He put out the cigarette and then they embraced, they shared tender kisses and then slept deeply, wrapped in a loving embrace.

 

While she slept, Molly had a strange dream:

_She was back home in Ireland, standing in a field by the shade of a tree, and Liam was with her. He stood behind her, an arm around her waist as he drew out his gun then handed it to her, and guided her aim in front of them, towards the place where the field ended and a low gate was visible._

“ _This is how you do it,” he said, “We both know you can hit a target. But that's not always enough. You can feel the gun in your hand, your finger on the trigger?”_

“ _Yes,” she replied, feeling the weight of the weapon as her finger touched lightly against the trigger._

“ _Now,” Liam added, “It's not about point and shoot. Not in a one on one situation. There's this moment when the other person makes that choice: Fuck it, I'm pulling the trigger. It's a split second before they do it, Molly. It's a look in the eyes, or a flicker of something on their face. That's when you do it first.”_

“ _I just trust it's the right moment?”_

“ _That's right. In that kind of situation, you have to trust it. This could save your life one day,” as she lowered the gun she turned around and handed it back to him and he shoved it into the back pocket of his jeans, then he placed his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes._

“ _Your life or the life of someone you love.” he added._

Molly woke up, slowly opening her eyes. She thought about the dream she had just had: The location was real, it was a field near her family's estate, but that conversation had _never_ happened back when she had been with Liam...

But it did give her a sharp reminder that she ought to start carrying a gun. Her father said he was picking some weapons up tomorrow, just to be sure they were both armed in case Velaska tried anything. Oswald was already prepared – he had a loaded shotgun rested against the wall, seeing loaded guns was nothing new to Molly because she had grown up around people who carried guns all the time. It was a reassuring sight, in light of all she had heard about the threat of hostility.

She turned on her side, watching Oswald as he slept. His hair had fallen over his closed eyes, his lips were parted and he was breathing softly. She wanted to kiss him, but she didn't want to wreck a perfect moment and wake him from such a peaceful sleep. That thought had just hit her again, this was the man she wanted to spend forever with. It was strange how, only two years before, she had thought her life was over, that all chance of happiness had been snatched away with Liam's death. Now she was here with Oswald and life had brand new meaning and purpose, as if all roads had led to this, part of a plan drawn by the unseen hand of fate.

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” she whispered, then she shifted closer to him as he stirred but did not wake, giving a sigh as he sensed her closeness and slid his arm around her, and slept on.

 

As the sun lowered and light began to fade, far from Gotham, out in the woodland where the trees were starting to lose leaves that gathered dead on the damp ground, as the cold breeze shuddered partly bared branches of trees that looked stark against the twilight, the big old house set in the middle of what had once been a grand estate looked haunted, save for the lights that were on inside, traces of them dimly glowing through gaps in boarded windows and upstairs, behind almost closed drapes. Outside, the place was heavily guarded, with Velaska's men spread out in the woodland, heavily armed thanks to the raid on the warehouse.

Jeremiah felt smugly secure with his plans as he sat at the desk with the map still unfolded, then as she approached him, he pulled out the chair, grasping the wrist of his female guest and tugged her down on to his lap. He ran one hand up her thigh to the hem of her black velvet dress, while the other snaked around her waist and as he looked into her eyes, he saw compliance and adoration. _Wonderful._ They always fell so easily, but this one, she had been too simple to draw closer, all it had taken was a reply to a letter while he was in Arkham, and wealthy, attractive heiress Nadine Von Glass had been only too happy to grant his every wish, including financing his escape from Arkham. _Sex was such a powerful weapon...So was the fact that she had once been a follower of the cult of his late brother Jerome._ Now she was invaluable to him – his key to freedom, and very useful in his immediate plans...

She had also given very, _very_ good head to him after he had escaped from Arkham. He hadn't told her about all the other inmates who had offered themselves to him during his stay. Power and notoriety was an aphrodisiac even behind bars. He smiled as he saw desire burning in her eyes, and then he watched her optimism fall as he spoke to her.

“No intimacy today. And don't even try and tempt me with a drink. I need a clear head for tomorrow and I intend to save all my energy for dealing with Penguin. I'm not in the mood to make love. I want to smash a few bones before I make my final point to him. You know what to do tomorrow?”

Nadine looked into his eyes. It was as if he could turn that warmth off at the flick of an invisible switch, leaving behind only ice. But as she looked at him, she remembered his promises, his whispered words and the thrill of his touch. He was Jeremiah, brother of Jerome. She had been only too happy to loan him the use of her grandparent's former home just outside of Gotham, the former Von Glass estate...

“I know what to do, Jeremiah,” she replied.

“Do _not_ let me down.”

“I would never do that. I remember what you promised me,” she smiled, recalling his words, “It's a small price to pay for the power we will share...” then she paused, “Why Penguin? What did he do to you?”

Jeremiah felt bemused at her ignorance as he briefly admired her pretty face and her long, auburn hair that framed it. She was lovely, her body was curvaceous, too. _But everyone served a purpose in life and hers was to assist him with his current plans..._

“He's in my way,” Jeremiah explained, “And once he's _out_ of my way, I can take over his territory. From there I can expand my plans to have the whole of Gotham in my possession.”

She blinked, shooting him a look that made him realise he ought to choose his words more carefully... this one missed nothing.

“You mean, _our_ plans.”

“You know what I meant to say,” Jeremiah replied, and he gave her a tight, sudden hug as he heard her gasp as over her shoulder, his eyes remained like ice as he feigned warmth in his voice, “I can't help it if I make no sense sometimes - I blame that on you being such a distraction!”

Then he let go of her and drew back. She got up from his lap and as she stepped back, he got up too and turned to her, fixing her with a hard glare.

“Everything depends on you tomorrow,” he reminded her, “We know where he will be and the precise time. I expect you to be back here by ten am – with the prisoner!”

Nadine felt a flicker of nervousness, but as she looked into his eyes, she nodded.

“I won't let you down, Jeremiah,” she vowed.

 

Later that night, as storm clouds rumbled over Gotham, the rain came down heavily and Oswald woke from a deep sleep, recalled making love to Molly and then smiled as he turned over and embraced her, remembering this was not a dream. Life felt perfect, as if nothing was missing. No more cold, empty space beside him at night, no more aching loneliness... Molly was awake already, listening to the thunder then watching as lightning streaked the skies. She brushed his hair from his eyes with a soft touch of her fingertips as love shone in her gaze.

“Did the storm wake you, Oswald?” she asked.

“Yes, it did. What time is it?”

“Almost midnight,” she replied, “I heard my Dad come back about half an hour ago. He was a bit tipsy. He'll sleep right through this, he's been out drinking with Ryan and the rest of the guys. He's asleep already.”

Oswald sat up and adjusted his pillows, and Molly did the same as they lay there by the lamp light, watching the storm rage outside.

“How do you know he's asleep?” he asked her.

She giggled.

“Because he's stopped singing! He'll be snoring now. It's the first time he's had a chance to really unwind since we got here. The deal he made with you is very important to him.”

“I can tell,” Oswald replied.

Molly shifted closer to him and as he embraced her, she thought about her dream.

“Something weird happened earlier... I had a dream about Liam. Not like I was missing him or feeling bad about us – I don't. It was something else. Like he was trying to tell me something.”

Oswald felt a flicker of worry.

“Are you certain it's not because of us? You have no reason to feel guilty, he's been gone for two years -”

“Oswald, _listen!_ ” she turned her back on the storm and met his gaze, “It was something about guns. He was telling me to be ready, like he was warning me about something. He said to trust my instinct if I needed to pull the trigger. He said, to save my life – or the life of someone I loved.”

Oswald swept his hand over her hair as he spoke reassuringly, guessing all the talk about Velaska was to blame for this.

“You can be certain we are very safe, Molly. I have armed guards around this property and Victor is my personal bodyguard. Velaska can try and and make a direct move on me, but he will fail. He's more likely to attack my assets than me personally. He's destructive, he caused chaos and devastation with his bombs a few years back. I have to use my men to sweep premises for explosives on a regular basis, and they've spent hours each day searching for him, but it's as if he's just vanished.”

“Maybe he's left the city, walked away from it all?” she wondered.

“Not Valeska. He's got ambition to tear everything down, stake a claim on the ruins and call it a victory. He's extremely dangerous. That's why I'm thinking of asking Victor to watch over you and your father while I'm out on business.”

Molly smiled as she looked at him doubtfully.

“I'm sure Victor is useful to have around, but I can take care of myself, I'm a MacQueen. As for my Dad, you haven't seen the other side to him. If anyone as much as threatened him, it would be the last thing they ever did.”

Molly had sounded very sure about that. While Oswald didn't doubt her words, he still worried for her safety.

“But I love you,” he reminded her, “This is for my peace of mind. And I won't be here tomorrow morning. I have to meet with some gang bosses at my office above the Lounge to discuss some financial matters. We do it on a regular basis, I can't change my routine because of Velaska. He's probably scratching around somewhere trying to find the right equipment to make explosives. I don't doubt his main method of assault will be an attempt at financial ruin. But my people will find him. He's here in the city somewhere.”

Molly's eyes clouded with concern as she thought about the matter.

“But he might try and kill you? If he wants your turf -”  
“That is a possibility but the longer he stays silent the less likely it seems. And I am well protected, as are my business interests.”

“He raided your warehouse.”

“But he won't get the chance again,” Oswald reminded her, then as the rainfall began to fade out and the storm started to move away, as thunder rumbled in the distance, he held her a little tighter.

“Don't worry about anything tonight,” he said softly, “You and I are together and happy and this is the start of the rest of our lives. Leave the underworld concerns to me. I've lasted this long because I'm Penguin. I'll last for many years to come!”

Then he kissed her tenderly, and as she drew back, he saw a look of amusement in her eyes.

“I don't care how tough you are, _Penguin_ ,” she said playfully, “You're supposed to take that glass eye out at night! Go and put it in its box and come back to bed!”

Oswald hesitated.

“I've seen it all before!” Molly reminded him, “Put your eye away!”

He laughed as he sat up in bed. Molly had a way of making everything that filled him with tension seem so easy to handle. Then as she sat up too, she did something unexpected.

“Put your head back, Oswald.”

“Why?”

“Just do it, I want to try something.”

Oswald obeyed her, then as she reached for his blind side he tensed.

“No, Molly -”

“Hold still...”

She pressed gently on his lower eyelid, the way she had seen him do it, and as it slid out, she caught the glass eye in her hand and laughed.

“Look at that! It popped out so easily!”

Oswald looked down at his glass eye staring back at him from the palm of her hand, and then he started to smile as she got out of bed, went over to the dressing table and stood there naked as she looked back at him.

“Goodnight, Oswald's eye!” she said playfully, and kissed it before placing it in its container.

He looked at her fondly as she rejoined him in bed.

“It really doesn't make a difference to you, does it?”

“Not at all,” she assured him, and then as she leaned closer to his blind side, he closed his eyelid as she placed a gentle kiss there. As they lay back down together and the sound of falling rain stopped, Oswald suddenly recalled something.

“ _I could have had my eye replaced.”_

“Seriously?” Molly had been planning to hold him close and go straight back to sleep, but what he had just said had taken her by surprise.

“Yes, Molly, after the war I could have had a transplant. There's a scientist who lives in Gotham, his name is Hugo Strange. He got into a lot of trouble a few years back for his experiments, but he's capable of working absolute miracles. He could have replaced my eye.”

“So why didn't he do it?” she asked.

Oswald hesitated, not wanting to go too deeply into memories of such terrible pain.

“I decided I could not face more of the same kind of pain, when I lost my eye it was agony, and back then, in those difficult times after the war, everything was in short supply – including pain relief. I had very little in the way of medication to help me recover from my injury. So I decided a prosthetic was the better option.”

“But you could have your sight back.”

“Molly, I still have one good eye, and I am thankful for it!” he kissed her fondly and then turned out the light, “Goodnight, my love,” he added.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Molly replied, resting warm in his arms. She had wanted to say more about his eye – if he had the chance to regain his vision she wanted him to take it, but he had made it clear the level of pain he had gone through back then had been unbearable, and the very last thing she wanted to do was remind him of that memory. As he shifted closer, slipping into a deep sleep and resting his head on her shoulder, she pressed her lips softly against his hair and kissed him gently, taking care not to wake him, then she closed her eyes, joining him in restful sleep - unaware that the coming morning would change everything. _It would be the start of a terrible nightmare..._

 

The morning was cold and damp due to last night's storm and as the wind tore more leaves off the near skeletal trees, ten year old April Von Glass stood at the window, watching as a smashed up car was loaded up into a vehicle. Despite her warm clothing, she shivered. This house was cold and damp. But her aunt Nadine had no one to take care of her while she was busy, so she had brought her along to the big, creepy old house where she mostly stayed in her room because Nadine didn't want her to get in the way. It was as miserable here as it had been at home, stuck living with Nadine, who mostly behaved as if she didn't exist.

She had listened at the door as Nadine had talked with her new boyfriend Jeremiah: _There was plan going on to abduct a guy called Penguin. They were going to block off a road and make it look like there had been a car accident, so he had to stop his own car and get out. She had heard Jeremiah say he wanted to kill Penguin._ Jeremiah scared her. She didn't understand why Nadine liked him so much, or why she was here, in this nasty old house, when they could have been back at her apartment in the city.

Just then the door opened and April turned sharply, then as she saw who had come in, she felt less alone.

“Good morning! I decided to bring you some hot tea because this place is so cold, and some breakfast. _And_ your medication because your selfish aunt is too lazy to bother with you.”

Her visitor set the tray down on the table and smiled warmly. April smiled back at her. The young woman was called Doc by the people who worked for Jeremiah, she was there to fix up wounds. She had told April she wasn't a qualified doctor, but knew enough to do the job. She also told her that her real name was River. She wasn't like the other people that hung around Jeremiah. She had told April she didn't even like the guy. Unlike many of his followers, River didn't paint her face clown like or carry a weapon. She was usually in black jeans and a red leather jacket, her short dark hair framed her delicate features and her pale eyes were striking, looking bright against her dark olive skin. As April reached for her breakfast, River opened up the bottle of pills and placed two in front of her, then took a glass of water off the tray.

“Take your pills first, April.”

“But I'm hungry!”

“And you also have epilepsy,” she reminded her, “Take your pills, I'm the only one around here who bothers to remind you.”

“Okay,” she replied, and she took the pills and then reached for her breakfast. Then a thought struck her and she looked at River curiously as she paused, collecting her thoughts as she wound a strand of her fair hair around her finger.

“River?”

“Yes, April?”

“How come you know so much about being a doctor if you're not a real one?”

That question made River smile.

“My Dad was a doctor. He had a private practise and he used to take extra work from underworld contacts – when people got beat up or shot, he would treat them. But he was doing this on his own and sometimes it was hard work, I was around your age when I started helping him, and he taught me a lot.”

“So you saved a lot of people?”

She briefly smiled, then replied carefully, sparing her the details.

“Sometimes, yes, sometimes no. Then the Gotham war happened and a lot of people died, including my parents. I ended up living with some people who were into the cult of Jerome. Taking this job with Jeremiah is my way into the underworld, April. I won't always be working for him. There are better people out there to make alliance with. I intend to return to Gotham with a solid plan for my future – one that involves a better deal than working for Velaska.”

“ _Take me with you.”_

April's eyes were wide and pleading, her voice had sounded so sad. River didn't want to think about what would happen to that poor kid if she was dragged along into Jeremiah's plans.

“I've heard this Penguin guy is a reasonable man – and very powerful. Maybe, if I can find a way to help him, we might all get out of here and if we do, yes, I will take you with me, April.”

The child got up from the table and gave her an unexpected hug. As April stepped back, River kept her voice low as she spoke again.

“But this is not a promise, it's just a maybe. I've seen enough to know I want to get far from Velaska – and you need to do that too. _If_ I can get us out, I will.”

April nodded, looking hopefully at River, the only person in her life who she knew she could trust.

“I hope you can do it,” April replied, “I hate it here, I want to leave.”

“So do I,” River assured her, “We both need to get away from here - while we still can.”

 

Back at the Van Dahl mansion, the day had started well. Oswald had woken from sleep with a wonderful feeling taking over his body, at first he thought he was dreaming, but it was so vivid he could actually feel it... then memories of the night before came rushing back and as Molly's hand caressed his erection again, he gave a sigh.

“Don't stop, Molly!”

She shifted down the bed, the gentle kisses to his body brought a smile to his face as he closed his eyes, his breathing quickening along with his heartbeat as she took him in her mouth.

“ _I love you so much...”_ he whispered.

He gently grasped at her hair with one hand as he felt her take hold of his other hand, gripping it tightly, wanting that contact with him to stay solid before climax briefly swept him away. The gentle sucking became harder and more urgent as he gave short, sharp gasps, and as he came she held his hand tighter, and it felt like her touch was the only contact he had left with the world as a wave of pleasure washed through his body. She was attentive to the very last throb, then she released him and placed a gentle kiss in his pubic hair and then rejoined him above the covers. He turned on his side, gave a sigh and held her tightly.

“I don't want to do that meeting today!” he exclaimed, his voice muffled as he pressed his face against her shoulder, “I just want to stay here with you, like this.....” then he turned on his back and gave a heavy sigh, “But, business must come first, my dear. I'd better get up now.”

He kissed her and then got out of bed and headed for the shower, taking the container that held his glass eye with him. Molly waited in bed, wanting to watch her lover as he got dressed and then groomed his hair in front of the mirror. She didn't want to miss a moment of his life, just to be like this, every day with Oswald, was a complete happiness she had never known she needed until the day they had first met, and everything had changed for the better.

Oswald had his shower, then he put in his glass eye and returned to the bedroom and started to get dressed. As he was doing that, he thought about his plans for the day, then he voiced them to his lover.

“When I return I need to speak with your father about receiving the first shipment, it will be arriving any day now. And then I thought we could have dinner together, and maybe go to the Lounge for a few hours, then home to bed, how does that sound, Molly?”

He was dressed now and had just put on his monocle as he turned around and his tone became apologetic.

“I am so sorry I have to leave you alone this morning. But running an empire can frequently make demands on my time.”

Molly got out of bed and as she wrapped her arms around him, he had no trace of shyness left as he felt instantly aroused by the closeness of her naked body, and he pressed close to her, with a sparkle in his undamaged eye as she felt him growing hard against her thigh.

“While I'm working,” he told her, “I will be thinking of you, of making love with you tonight. You will also be firmly locked away inside my heart.”

“I love you, Oswald,” she replied softly.

“I love you too, my dear,” he told her, then they shared a kiss and finally, with great reluctance, he let go of her and left the room. Molly headed for the shower, ready to get up and start the day, have breakfast downstairs with her father and then spend a few hours trying not to grow impatient for Oswald's return. Every second he was out of her arms, she missed him as much as he missed her.

 

As Oswald headed for his car, Victor came over to join him. Oswald turned to him in surprise.

“What are you doing, Victor?”

“Driving you to your meeting as I always do?”

“I told you, I need you to guard Molly!”

From what he had heard about the reputation of the MacQueens, Victor doubted they needed much protection at all. He had heard from one of Kane's men that his boss was very handy with a gun and also his fists and he had probably killed as many people as Penguin had over the years. He had also heard Molly was a tough woman, every bit as tough as her father when she needed to be. But clearly, his boss was in love and he understood why he would want to have her guarded.

“Penguin,” he said as they stood together on the driveway, “They don't need protection. But you might need it because of Velaska.”

Today he was using his cane. Oswald drew out the dagger and the blade glinted as it caught on weak sunlight escaped through a gap in the gathering clouds.

“You know I'm more than capable of defending myself!”

There was the sound of metal on metal as he slid the blade sharply back into place on top of his cane, as determination burned in his eyes.

“I'm only going into the city! Please, take care of Molly and her father. I shall call you when I'm on my way back.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Get out of my way, Victor!” he snapped as his patience grew thin, and Victor stepped aside as Oswald opened up the driver's door and got into the car.

“Look after Molly for me!” he reminded him, giving the order from the open window, then he drove away, leaving Victor standing in the driveway as he watched the car leave.

 

Further up the road, before it turned off to meet the highway, the road had been closed off to incoming traffic. In the middle of the empty road was a car wreck, the wind shield was shattered and a dead woman had been thrown out of the driver's seat and on to the hood of the car, her blood streaked face turned towards the other side of the road.

The trunk of the car was up, the hammer used to smash the glass was tossed inside it. The dead woman was very much alive, Nadine was lying there covered in fake blood as she waited, and Velaska's armed men also waited, lurking beyond the treeline on the other side of the road, ready for Penguin's car to arrive and for him find the crash that blocked the road and pull up and get out. _It was a trap, and Oswald was about to walk straight into it..._

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A warning feels appropriate here. The action is about to pick up, and the warning is for some rather brutal violence. The plot gets dark here but there will eventually be a happy ending!

Chapter 5

 

Oswald had seen the wreck up ahead in the road and pulled over, then turned off the engine and got out of the car. He stared at the sight of the devastation. The poor woman who had been thrown through the wind shield was covered in blood. The front of the car was buckled and twisted, yet he saw no other vehicle nor were there marks on the road where either vehicle had gone into a last minute swerve. Oswald glanced about, seeing and hearing no one, the only sound that punctured the silence was a piece of debris as it was shifted against broken glass by the breeze. _This was odd._ But he was still walking towards that wreck and that woman because she was still breathing, he saw her head move a fraction and then he limped over to her quickly, leaning hard on his cane as he hurried closer. While he was aware the accident seemed to have no visible cause, it was also on his mind that she could be someone's mother, probably had kids at home waiting for her, wondering why she had not come home...

“Can you hear me?” he said as he looked at the motionless woman.

She didn't respond, so he stepped away from her and drew his phone from his pocket. He was just about to call for help, when he heard an odd sound: Breathing, something moving, sliding too quickly, it was out of place on this lonely road with no one but a near dead car accident victim for company... He turned around to see her sliding from the car, as she jumped off and landed on her feet the sight of her as she straightened up, clearly _not_ close to death, was a shock – it was the blood that streaked her face, the way she was staring like a zombie. Then he took a step back, shoving his phone into his pocket as she lunged at him, and he drew his blade from his cane.

_It was a trap... and she wasn't alone. Armed men were coming out from the shadow of the treeline. Shit, they looked like Velaska's people..._

As two men with guns ran towards him, the woman made a grab for him and he lashed out at her and she gave a yell as something ripped from her ear, then he saw real blood and a desperate look in her eyes, but he shoved her away and she tumbled to the ground hard. Two men came at him, one caught the side of his face with heavy gun, the blow was hard but he managed to turn and slice upwards with his blade, slashing the throat of one, who staggered back as blood spurted out, then he struggled with the other, plunging the blade in and out of his shoulder as he gave a yell. Oswald kicked and punched at the bleeding man, then turned sharply away from the assailant on the roadside who was choking as his throat pumped blood.

He was about to reach for his phone to call Victor and tell him he had been right. Then something slammed into the side of his head, it was the hardest blow he had ever felt, it knocked the world sideways and sent a splitting pain around his skull as his blade clattered to the ground and his legs buckled and he fell hard, hitting the road surface as the world blurred, and then went dark.

Oswald came back to his senses and felt a vague ache in his head. His face was wet on one side, so was his collar and his jacket and by the smell of it, he guessed it was his own blood as he opened his eyes, saw a too bright clouded sky then felt pain all over as the view was obscured by the trunk he had just been placed in. _It's not the first time I've been put in the trunk of a car - I lived through it then, I'll live through this,_ Oswald thought. Then he wondered why the world kept fading in and out along with the throb inside his head.

The woman was beside the open trunk, quarrelling with the man who had a stab wound to his shoulder.

“ _Jeremiah will kill both of us!”_ the guy said anxiously, _“What the fuck did you do that for, Nadine?”_

The woman named Nadine was wiping fake blood from her face.

“It was in the trunk, he was about to kill me! I just picked it up and hit him, what's the big deal?”

Oswald's vision was clearer now, and his only sighted eye widened in alarm as he saw the weapon in her hand... a small, blood stained hammer... _She had hit him on the head with a fucking hammer?_

“If he dies now, Jeremiah won't be happy. He wanted to keep him alive for a while!”

“Jeremiah won't hurt me,” Nadine said, “He loves me!”

She slammed the trunk shut, leaving Oswald in the dark as he fought for breath as panic threatened to overwhelm him. His head was agony and he felt weak and wanted to throw up: _Jeremiah had arranged this? He was about to be taken to that crazy bastard, after his crazy girlfriend had most likely fractured his skull? He was as good as dead if he didn't do something fast..._

The sound of quarrelling voices had faded out. For a few moments, he felt a sense of missing time, like he had almost passed out again. Then a door slammed shut, and the vibration of it cut through the pain inside his head. The car began to move and Oswald wanted to throw up. He took deep breaths and reached a shaking hand into his pocket, drew out his phone and the brightness of the screen shot pain into his vision as he moved a finger over the blurring sight of the screen as he wondered why how to use the thing was like a distant memory. Then he remembered, and found Victor's number. His hand shook as he tried to raise the phone to his ear, and as it connected with blood, he pulled it away sticky and wet and put the call on loud speaker.

“Boss, what's wrong?” Victor asked.

Oswald drew in a slow breath.

“ _He's... he's got me. Valeska... I'm in a car... they just got me...”_

“Okay, I'm coming to find you, Penguin. Are you hurt?”

“She hit me with a hammer...my head hurts... I can't think any more...”

“ _Keep talking to me!”_

Oswald felt a wave of pain and exhaustion sweep over him.

“ _Penguin!”_ he heard Victor yell.

Oswald closed his eyes, then realised his blind side felt empty. _That blow from the hammer had knocked out his glass eye?_ His head hurt less if he kept his eyes closed.

“ _PENGUIN, TALK TO ME!”_ Victor yelled.

Then the signal was lost and the call dropped. The car went over a bump in the road and Oswald puked, then he coughed and the realisation that he was covered in blood and puke and had just ruined a good suit was enough to bring him back to his senses:

Velaska's _people had abducted him, and a blow to the head from a hammer had left him too weak to fight back. This was as bad as it could get..._

“ _Victor!”_ he gasped, and reached around the trunk, found the phone again but his head ached sharply, he still wanted to throw up and the phone slipped as he focused on a screen smeared with blood. His vision blurred. He blinked away tears as he wondered if this was how it would end. He had just found Molly, he had a chance of happiness, his empire had been secure, there was peace in the underworld – and now _this_ , Valeska had stepped in to ruin it all... Pain and panic took over as he gave a sob.

“ _Let me go!”_ he cried, _“Help me!”_ Then he passed out just as the phone that had slipped from his hand went dark.

 

Back at the mansion, Victor had been taking a call in the hallway. Molly had just had breakfast with her father, who had quickly revived from last night's celebratory drinks after strong coffee.

“It was a great night,” he was saying, “Your Uncle Ryan kept cracking his jokes! Me and the fellas had a few games of pool, too -”

“ _Velaska has Penguin!”_

Those three words shattered the perfect peace of the morning. Molly's face turned ghostly white as she looked at Victor, who stood in the doorway with the phone in his hand, his eyes were wide with a look between shock and rage.

“I told him I should have gone with him! He sounded in a bad way. He said someone hit him in the head with a hammer.”

Darkness and anger flashed in the eyes of Kane MacQueen as he rose from the table.

“We're going to need weapons,” he said.

“I've got spares in my car,” Victor replied.

Molly stood up. She stared at Victor as she walked towards him and as she spoke, she was shaking.

“ _Valeska has my Oswald?”_ she said quietly.

“Don't worry, we'll find him, stay calm, I'll take care of everything,” Victor assured her, then he reached out to put a hand on her shoulder.

“Don't!” Kane warned him, and Victor shot him a confused glance.

“She's not in shock,” Kane said in a low voice, “It's something else. She'll be fine. _Just don't get in her way_.”

He was about to ask what he meant, but then he felt a sharp tug on the gun holstered on his right side, and he checked his weapon and found it was gone. It was in Molly's hand, and she was shoving it into the back pocket of her jeans.

“That's _my_ gun!” Victor exclaimed. Molly had just walked past him and into the hallway, and she turned back with a look in her eyes that made Victor take a step back.

“Get yourself another. I'm off to find Oswald – and the bastard who did this to him! Velaska's good as dead.”

 _I believe you,_ Victor thought silently. _In a split second Molly had turned from a warm and seemingly harmless person into an almost robotic and coldly determined killer. He knew that look, he had seen it many times during his career, but at the level of Molly MacQueen? No..._

Molly was already at the front door and opening it. Victor and Kane hurried after her as Kane grabbed his coat and put it on, guessing its length would be useful to conceal a weapon.

“You have plenty of guns and ammo, you're sure about that?”

“Yes, Kane!” Victor replied, and they hurried from the house and over to Victor's car where he paused to open the trunk, then he handed a loaded gun to Kane who checked his weapon, and finally Victor replaced his own missing gun, then closed the trunk and got into the car. Kane got in the back as Molly took the front passenger seat and barked an order.

“We need to follow the route he's just taken -”

“ _I know!”_ Victor yelled, still caught between cold focus on his job and the thought that wouldn't go away, _Shit, someone hit Penguin in the skull with a hammer, he could fucking die if we don't find him fast..._ As he looked at her, Molly shot him that look again. Her mind was focussed on one thing – finding Oswald. He said nothing more and started the car, then drove away as wheels screeched on the driveway and they headed for the road beyond.

 

Oswald had felt a sharp jolt and just as he tried to wake up, the trunk had opened, then he was being dragged out, as the light hit his vision he gave a cry of pain. He didn't know if his phone had been found, but he could see now – he was out in the woods away from Gotham. Two of Velaska's men were half walking, half dragging him towards an old house. His damaged leg was painful, he guessed the fall had done that. His face hurt from the blow from the weapon. His head and one side of his face was streaked with blood, but at least it was drying now. He took that as a good sign that what ever damage had been done meant he wouldn't be bleeding to death, at least not yet.

He was taken into the house and the pain in his head eased as he adjusted to the dim lighting. They took him through to an empty room where he saw a barred cell. _This is not where I am going to die,_ he thought silently. He was ready to do anything now. If Velaska wanted his empire, he could take it. He could always fight to get it back later. Right now, he needed to save his own life because all he had left was the ability to either strike a bargain or beg and plead for mercy, on his knees if he had to. There was no other way, that hammer blow had cancelled out any chance of fighting back...

The men who had dragged him into the room did not put him in the cell, instead they let go of him, leaving him to drop to his knees as pain shot through his weak leg on impact with the floor. Oswald stayed here, on his knees, watching as shadows moved beyond the open doorway, throwing their shapes up the dimly lit wall.

“Thank you, I'll take that,” said Velaska, then he spoke in a low voice.

“ _What_ happened?”

“She hit him with a hammer, Jeremiah. There was a struggle -”

“I wanted him in one piece!” Jeremiah fumed, then Oswald heard the unmistakeable sound of a fist slamming into a jawbone, “How am I supposed to torture a half dead man?”

“I'm sorry, I had no choice, he would have killed me!” Nadine protested.

“Are you still here?” Jeremiah said angrily, “GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!”

Then he entered the room and closed the door firmly behind him. He stood there in his fine suit, his face colourful and sinister as he looked down at the sight of him, on his knees and covered in blood and vomit. Jeremiah's face spread into a wide grin.

“Good morning, Penguin,” he said darkly as he stepped closer, “Welcome to the final hours of your life!”

Oswald blinked away tears as he raised his head and looked up at him. He was ready now, he was ready to beg for his life, to do what ever it took to survive this ordeal...

 

As they saw the wreck looming closer in the middle of the road, Victor slowed to a stop and they got of the car. Molly ran over to the scene of carnage, there was blood everywhere, - pooling from the throat of a dead gunman, and more on the roadside, even spattered through the broken glass that littered the scene. She saw Oswald's cane, a short distance away was his blade, and blood was still drying on it. She grabbed the blade and cane and joined it together, then she looked carefully at the ground again. She saw his glass eye and picked it up, then turned around as Victor joined her. He looked to glass eye and thought about that hammer blow again.

I'll take that,” he said, and she handed him the cane, “We can't leave anything connected to Penguin here,” Victor added, indicating to the corpse close by, “He took one of them out with his blade – I'd know his throat slash anywhere.”

Molly saw something catching the weak sunlight and stepped closer to the car wreck and picked up his monocle. It was cracked. She slipped it into her pocket along with his glass eye, then her father called them over to the trunk of the car and as he lifted a bloodstained hammer, Victor studied it closely, shutting out concern for Penguin as he tried to work on finding some answers.

“They left the weapon at the scene... Valeska sent an amateur to do his dirty work.”

“And it's not the heaviest of hammers,” Kane added, “And they didn't use the claw end I'm guessing one blow, not enough to kill him but enough to do some damage. How did he sound one the phone?”

“In pain. But he could still talk.”

Kane looked up the road, towards another turn off.

“Where does that lead?”

“Out of Gotham.”

Kane swore under his breath as he walked away from the wreckage and looked to the other end of the road, where it had been sealed off.

“They left town?”

He turned to the corpse on the ground and kicked it in frustration.

Then as Molly turned to head back to the car, she saw something sparkle amid the broken glass and she picked it up, holding the pearl and diamond earring up to catch the light.

“Real diamonds. Someone has expensive taste...”

Victor looked at the earring. It was very distinctive, a pearl set in a spiral of diamonds that swirled around it, the piece was small and intricate.

“There's only one store in Gotham that sells this kind of stuff,” he said, “It would have been made to order for someone.”

“Let's go, we need a name.” Molly was already heading back to the car.

As the two men turned to join her, Kane's eyes were burning with dark fury.

“I know what you're thinking,” Victor said, “When you get your hands on the bastard who did this -”

“No,” he replied as they reached the car, “I'm thinking about Molly getting her hands on them. She'll send 'em straight to hell while we watch.”

They got back in the car. As he started the engine and drove away, Victor glanced at Molly.

“We have to take the longer route out – and keep away from this road until the cops find the mess and clear it up. I'm going to call Penguin's men and tell them to be on standby, as soon as we know his location, we'll have back up.”

“I'll do the same with my people,” Kane added from the back of the car.

“ _Drive faster,”_ Molly said, and her tone was flat, that look was still in her eyes, _“Oswald is running out of time.”_

“I know that,” Victor replied, and the car picked up speed.

As they turned off and headed up the road that forked further ahead, where one turn led out of Gotham and the other back into the city, Kane spoke up.

“What if they took this route to go back to Gotham?”

“There's not been a hint of Velaska in the city since his escape,” Victor replied, “We'll know more when we find out who owns this earring.”

And they drove on as Molly said nothing, her gaze fixed on the road ahead as white hot rage seethed inside her at the thought of Valeska and the harm he had done to the one she loved. Finding Oswald was her driving force. There was no time to feel fear or heartache or to shed tears. She just wanted him back alive, nothing else mattered...

 

Oswald had started to get used to the dull ache in his head, the dim lighting in the room had helped a lot to take away the worst of the pain. He was now aware that nothing else mattered but survival: _Screw the expensive suit wrecked with vomit and blood, to hell with the risk to his empire. He could only go to war later to snatch it back if he crawled out of here alive...Saving his own life was the only focus now._

Jeremiah leaned over him and grabbed his face, fingers crushing into a bruise that was already forming on his cheekbone and as he whimpered, his enemy smiled again.

“This will be so much fun!” he laughed as he fixed him with a look somewhere that balanced the line between deepest sadism and insanity, as amusement danced in his eyes, “Say something, Penguin!”

As Velaska let go of his face, Oswald swayed, dizzy again as he felt a throb in his head. That hammer blow had done some serious harm, every movement made the room slide sideways. He stayed on his knees, figuring it was the best place to be, not just for his aching head, but for Jeremiah's benefit: _He wanted him kneeling, ready to beg and plead? He had his wish._ _He would offer him anything, his money, his empire, even his family home. Fuck it, he'd even suck his cock if Valeska demanded it. He just wanted to live..._ Oswald drew in a slow breath.

“Please, don't kill me, Valeska. I've done you no harm! I would have got you out of Arkham if you asked me – we could have made a deal! It's not too late for that. I could cut you in for a slice of my turf!”

Valeska was standing over him again, Oswald watched him desperately, pleading silently as he paced back and forth.

“Let me think about this,” said Valeska, and then he turned back to him and smiled that crazy smile.

“ _No!”_

Oswald felt his eye watering as he blinked several times to keep his vision clear. The blow from the weapon had caused bruising. His only sighted eye was starting to swell. The thought of it closing up and leaving him blind was terrifying, a thought he didn't need to focus on while this maniac was in the room.

“ _Please!”_ Oswald said desperately, “I am begging you, Velaska! You want power? Is that what you want? You _have_ power! You can have half my assets – I can cut you in on a new shipping deal, you'll have all the weapons you want!”

“That's not quite what I had in mind,” he replied with a smirk on his face as he stepped closer, “But keep talking. This is entertaining to say the least...”

“I will give you everything!” Oswald said, “Take everything from me, but let me live, please!”

“I'm going to take everything, you have no say in that,” Jeremiah replied, and he aimed a swift kick that connected with Oswald's ribs. A white flash came to his vision as he hit the floor, he had heard his ribs crack as Jeremiah had kicked him, and as he drew in another breath, the bastard kicked him again. Oswald cried out in pain, and in response, Velaska kicked him harder and laughed.

“See how easy it is to fall from power?” he gloated as he stood over him, “My men are busy outside, digging a _very_ deep grave for you. No one will ever find you, Penguin.”

Oswald struggled to sit up and then gave a sob.

“ _Please don't kill me – you can have anything, I will work for you, I will be your slave – you can use me any way you see fit! But please spare my life!”_

Velaska licked his lips as he looked down at Penguin, bloody and battered and begging for mercy. There was something about this whole situation that made his cock rock solid, and it wasn't even the thought that the pathetic little bird man would probably offer him his body if he demanded it, in exchange for his life... it was the thought that all that he owned would soon be his. Once Penguin was gone, his people would have no one to follow, no one to work for... unless they chose the new boss, of course...

“I heard a story about you, Penguin,” he said with a wicked gleam in his eyes, and as his polished shoes stepped closer, every nerve in Oswald's body silently screamed, fearing more injury. Jeremiah paused, taking delight in all he was about to say as he gathered his thoughts.

“I understand you once served Fish Mooney. Oh, the tales I've heard about her!” he chuckled, “Let's see if you've still got it in you to be an umbrella boy, shall we?”

Oswald stared at him in horror. Jeremiah's face twisted into an evil sneer.

“ _Kiss my fucking shoes.”_

Oswald was still staring at him. This was the ultimate humiliation, but if that was what he wanted, if it gave him a chance, he would do it... He slowly leaned closer to the floor, his head throbbed as his lips made contact with the polished leather. He began to kiss his shoes, over and over until all he could smell was leather and polish and all he could hear was Jeremiah's laughter.

“I thought my finest hour would be after your death, when I destroy your club and take over your turf. I was wrong. _This_ is fucking fantastic... The once powerful Penguin, kissing my feet and begging for his life... You can stop now. You're boring me!”

Oswald struggled to sit upright as pain cut through his mind and the room lurched and almost took him back down with it. Finally the spinning in his head stopped and he was able to focus on Jeremiah. He was standing over him looking down with malice in his eyes. He knew he didn't have to be doing this. But he chose to, because for him, it was fun. The thought ran through Oswald's head that some people who were locked up in Arkham actually needed to get out of there – and then there were others, like Velaska, who _never_ should have found a way out of those walls ever again.

Then to his horror, Valeska pulled a phone from his pocket. Oswald recognised it as his own, his men must have found it in the trunk... it had been cleaned up, and as he held it up, Valeska smiled.

“I find your phone _very_ interesting,” he said, and as he leaned over him, he accessed photos and shoved the phone in Oswald's face.

“This would be Kane MacQueen's daughter?”

Oswald felt an ache in his heart as he gave a sob, looking at a picture he had taken of Molly standing by the Gotham River.

“ _I will kill you if you harm her!”_ he vowed as rage blazed in his eyes.

There was a flicker of annoyance in Velaska's gaze as he realised Penguin was still defiant. He leaned closer, his lips brushing his ear as he whispered to him:

“ _I'm going to take your life, then I'll take your empire and then, I will take your Molly – I'll take her in any way I see fit - while you are cold with a bullet in your head and buried deep in an unmarked grave -”_

Oswald choked off his words as he lunged at him, grabbing for his throat, slamming a fist into his face. He barely felt the pain of his knuckles connect with Velaska's lip, then he saw fury in his eyes and Jeremiah slammed an angry fist into the side of his head, and as he fell, he kicked him hard in the side, then as he rolled, he kicked him in the lower back and Oswald cried out as pain shot down his spine. He coughed and tasted blood. That was when Jeremiah stopped and stepped closer, looking down at him.

“I don't think you'll have the strength to do that again,” he remarked, wiping blood from his lip, “But I can't let you die yet. I'm planning to keep you alive for a while longer. My fun has only just started, Penguin.”

As Oswald focussed on breathing and not passing out, he noticed he had split Jeremiah's lip. But it gave him no sense of victory, he was so weak Velaska had left him on the floor and not even bothered to lock him in the cell. As Jeremiah left the room, he heard him raise his voice.

“ _I need Penguin kept alive for a while longer! Where the hell is the Doc?”_ he shouted, then the door closed. Oswald shut his eye, blocking out all light as he wished the darkness would stop the pain as it had on his arrival. But he hurt all over and felt so weak he didn't doubt he wouldn't last much longer. He thought of home and Molly and that was his last thought before he lost consciousness.

 

Upstairs, River was in April's room, the child was upset because her aunt had told her to _get the hell out_ when she had walked into her bedroom and seen her covering up a bruise on her face.

“I think Jeremiah hit her,” April said, looking at her wide eyed and speaking quietly as her hair framed her face, “I heard him yelling at her about hitting Penguin with a hammer. I don't know why she loves him so much, Jeremiah is mean.”

River sat there looking back at her unsure of what to say. She had seen him lash out many times, _mean_ was putting it mildly. He was a violent psychopath.

“I've heard he can be very cruel,” she agreed, “So you should stay away from him, April.”

The child paused, then shared a secret.

“You should be really careful, River. Don't be on your own with him. I heard some of the ladies who work for him say he's a creep and they use the _f word_.”

River forced a smile.

“I shall be sure to remember that,” she replied, silently recalling the way Jeremiah had looked at her on more than one occasion. River was barely eighteen years old, yet he seemed to think every woman who served him wanted to offer themselves to him – in every way...

“I think he hurt Mr Penguin,” April added, “I heard him screaming. Then Nadine found me and yelled at me and said I had to keep away from Jeremiah's business.”

Then the door opened and an armed guard looked in.

“Jeremiah wants you downstairs, Doc - he said the prisoner needs your attention.”

“I'll be there right away,” River replied as she got up to leave, then she looked back at April.

“I'll need to bring all my bags,” she added, “Would you help me, April?”

The child hesitated.

“But I'm not allowed in there, Nadine said so.”

“I want you to come with me,” River replied, then she looked over her shoulder, saw the guard had gone and explained further, “I want to see if I can help Mr Penguin. He might be able to help us, too.”

“What if he's too badly hurt and it's too late?”

“Then at least I can ease his pain,” River replied, and they left the room together.

 

The car pulled up outside a large jewellery store that bore the name _Von Glass,_ Molly got out as Victor glanced back at Kane.

“We just need to ask a few questions, there's no need to start trouble. We need to go about this as quietly and carefully as we can.”

“Agreed,” said Kane.

As the three of them walked towards the door, Kane looked at his daughter.

“Just act casual,” he reminded her.

She looked back at her father, said nothing and led the way, walking past glass displays containing intricate designs of gold and platinum. In other cases, diamonds sparkled. The store was quiet, few people in Gotham could afford the kind of stuff this place sold. There was a woman behind a large glass counter at the end of the store, and Molly reached her first, looking coldly at the tall blonde who wore diamond earrings and a lipstick painted smile as she looked up at her.

“What can I do for you today?” she asked, “Are you browsing or do you have something specific in mind?”

By now Kane and Victor had joined her.

Molly set the earring down on the counter and it connected sharply with the glass. The woman's expression changed to one of alarm as she recognised the bloodstained earring as belonging to Nadine, her boss...

“Clearly you recognise this,” Molly stated, “I want the name of the owner.”

The woman glared at her. Molly glared back.

“Name,” she said again.

Victor spoke up politely.

“We're keen to trace the owner.”

“Who wants to know?” the woman asked.

“We do because she's mixed up with someone called Valeska and he's dangerous,” Kane replied.

It was suddenly clear she already knew that, now she was reaching under the counter slowly, hitting a button, and as she drew a gun, Kane had spotted it first.

“Don't make me shoot you,” he warned, pulling his own gun.

Molly's hand moved like a blur and so did the woman behind the counter as her hand tangled in her hair and the woman's face hit the counter with a sharp smack.

“ _NAME!”_ Molly yelled.

The woman raised her head as fury blazed in her eyes, and Molly rammed her head against the counter again, this time the counter cracked along with her bloody nose and as the woman lifted her head, blood was dripping on to the cracked glass.

“ _Nadine,”_ she gasped, _“She owns the store...”_

“Thank you!” Molly snapped, then she turned to leave, just as armed guards ran up the store, guns pointed in their direction. Victor drew his guns.

“Shit, thanks a lot Molly!” he glanced to Kane, who gave him a nod, and as they turned around, Victor fired off with both guns, downing one guard as the other dived for cover.

They ran for the doors as a shot hit the glass, Kane fired back, and as more glass shattered, they made it outside but then the two remaining guards burst out, firing shots as Victor ducked and fired back and Kane took aim and fired off another shot as one man was downed and terrified shoppers screamed and ran and dived for cover. Molly lunged at the third assailant, slamming his wrist against a wall as she heard a snap and he dropped his gun, she aimed a punch and he ducked and she slammed her hand into brickwork, scraping the back of it and grazing her knuckles. The pain just made her fury rise as she aimed again, this time taking him down. He staggered back up as Kane and Victor struggled to get a straight aim, Molly was in the way as she fought off the attacker, then she hit him again and Molly kicked the gun from his reach.

“I think she's got him,” said Victor, then Kane's phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket.

“Oh no!” he exclaimed, “It's my wife... I can't let her know about this. I swore there would be no trouble while we were in Gotham. I'd better take this call.”

Victor looked at him in surprise. Molly was still trading blows with the guard, and the guard was losing. As Kane answered the call, he raised his weapon, shifting left and right as he tried again to get a clear aim.

“Hello Julia!” Kane said, “How are you, love?”

“I'm fine,” his wife replied, “I just thought I'd call and see how you were feeling after last night, you did have a hangover this morning?”

“No, I'm fine,” Kane replied, shifting the gun again, “I got up late, I just had breakfast with Molly... now we're relaxing, having a game of pool...”

“Oh that's good to know, tell Molly to call me later.”

“I will do, I'm a bit busy right now, I'm just about to take a shot myself!”

Just then Molly floored the assailant and aimed a kick between his legs that made a crack as his clothing ripped.

“I can hear Molly, knocking a few balls around!” said Julia.

“She certainly has,” Kane agreed, lowering his gun and shoving it back out of sight, “We have to go, Julia..I'll call you later.”

“Give my love to Molly.”

“Will do!” Kane ended the call.

Molly turned from her unconscious attacker, tossed her dark hair out of her eyes and strode back over to the car. Victor had already started the engine.

“Let's get out of here before the cops show up!” Kane said, then he looked at Molly, her cheek was red, her eye was bruised, the knuckles on her right hand were scraped bloody and raw.

“Are you okay?” he asked her.

“We need to find Nadine Von Glass,” she stated, and then she got into the car, “Any ideas, Victor?”

He was thinking about her question as Kane got in the back, then he drove away, heading quickly from the scene before the cops showed up.

“Answer my question!” Molly demanded.

“I'm thinking!” Victor exclaimed.

Molly glared back at him as her dark hair fell in a sweat dampened curtain that half shaded her face. That white hot fury still burned in her eyes. Victor collected his thoughts.

“The Von Glass family are wealthy, they've been established in Gotham for generations... I know where Nadine lives, she tried to hire me once... just for protection when there was a series of robberies in her area... I turned her down, because I was working for Penguin - but I remember where she lives.”

“Take us there,” said Molly.

“We'll have to break in,” Kane added.

“I can do that.” Victor assured him.

Then they drove on, away from the sound of distant cop cars, heading for Nadine's apartment.

 

Oswald felt pain flicker through his body as someone turned him over on to his back. He heard voices that sounded distant, then as consciousness returned, he could hear them clearly:

“Jeremiah didn't say anything about the kid coming in,” said a male voice.

“I have no one else to assist me,” replied a young woman, “And I helped my father with patients when I was her age – it wouldn't do April any harm to learn something useful around here!”

“But Jeremiah didn't give permission -”

“Get out, please. Mr Valeska asked me to attend to this man and you are delaying his treatment.”

The door closed.

“Put my bags down next to the other one, April,” the woman said.

Oswald opened his eyes, and as his vision in his only sighted eye began to clear, it blurred again and misted and he felt confused as she opened up his jacket, then his shirt, and pressed a hand on painful bruises.

“Oh my,” she said, “This is bad...”

“What's the matter with him, River?” asked April.

River shone a light in his eye and it was painful enough to make him give a weak groan.

“I'm so sorry,” she said to him, and now she had taken the light away, he could see her again.

“I can't help him,” she said, glancing away to April, then she looked down at him again as she swept back his hair and exposed the head wound, “Mr Penguin, can you hear me?”

Oswald drew in a slow breath.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“My name is River, I'm a doctor... sort of...You have a very serious head injury,” she said, “I can't treat it, I'm not a surgeon... all I can do is give you something for the pain, I'm so very sorry I can't do more for you.”

Oswald looked up at her, wondering why for a moment, he had looked at her and seen Fish Mooney speaking with his own voice, then his vision cleared again and he stared at the young woman who strangely made him think of Fish with her dark olive skin and her delicate features... by a strange coincidence, she had a way of speaking that reminded him of himself. Perhaps her eyes were the same shade as his own... _But you have been hit on the head with a hammer,_ he silently reminded himself, then as she apologised again for being unable to treat him, he raised a weak hand, closing it gently over her arm.

“Do not feel bad about this,” he whispered, “I've had a good life. I've come a long way since I was Fish Mooney's umbrella boy.”

River stared at him.

“What's your real name, Mr Penguin?” she asked in a hushed voice.

“My name is Oswald,” he replied weakly, then he gave a sigh as pain throbbed inside his head.

River got up, turning sharply from her patient, and as she looked wide eyed at April, the child looked at her in confusion.

“What's wrong, River?”

“Stay with Penguin,” she told her urgently, “I need to do something – I'm going to try and save him, I _have_ to save him!” then she hurried from the room.

Oswald looked up and saw the child called April was now standing beside him. What she said next came as a surprise.

“ _Don't worry, Mr Penguin,”_ she told him, _“She can help. You can trust Doc Mooney...”_

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

As they entered the apartment of Nadine Von Glass, the alarm flashed once and Victor deactivated it. Molly had already gone down the lavish marble hallway, and had now started opening doors and looking into rooms.

“You might want to wait for us -”

She looked back, said nothing, and as she turned away Victor shrugged.

“I'll shut up, Molly,” he muttered, then he turned to Kane.

“We may not find anything here. Nadine Von Glass is the owner of several properties in Gotham – some are commercial, others are residential. She leases two large houses to private tenants, both families who have nothing to do with the underworld... She's got no links I can figure out that ties her to Velaska.”

Kane heard a door open and he looked up the hallway to see Molly entering a room up the far end. As they began to head towards it, Kane glanced at Victor.

“Do you always check out prospective employees so carefully?”

“I check out everyone who tries to hire me, I like to know who wants my business,” he replied.

“Wise move,” Kane agreed.

As they reached the doorway and went inside, Kane looked about the room, thinking, Molly had wasted no time. Victor stared at the scattered clothing and belongings strewn about the room. Molly opened up a drawer pulled it out and tipped out a pile of under wear.

“Nothing,” she said, stepping over more clothing, then she went over to a locked drawer next to the bed and searched beneath for a key, finding none.

“I can probably get that open,” Victor offered.

Molly grabbed the bedside unit and smashed it to the floor, giving the splitting wood a heavy kick. As it came a part, the contents spilled out.

“Bloody hell!” said Kane, picking up one of many scattered pictures, “Looks like Nadine's been a busy girl!” he passed the picture to Victor, who shot him a doubtful look as he took in the sight of the lower body of a naked man, with his hand on his erection.

“I doubt we will find the solution in a dick pic!” he exclaimed.

“Patience, Victor.. if he's that bold, he's showed his face somewhere...”

Kane picked up more of the shots, went through them, in each picture, the man's face was not in the image, but clearly, they were intended to be alluring to Nadine. The next image held had an unmistakeable indent of handwriting on the back, and he turned it over.

“Look at this.”

Victor read it: _I am all yours, Nadine. Just set me free and you can have me in the flesh!_

Molly was on her knees dashing the pictures aside, now and then turning one over to read the back, but there was nothing more than a few words, and with each worthless image, her fist screwed the pictures tighter into a crushed mess as she cast them aside.

“Found him,” she suddenly said, and she held up a picture of a man standing in shadow, his shirt was open, he was looking into the camera. It was taken in Arkham. The cell behind him was unmistakeable, and it was definitely Velaska. Molly turned it over and read the message on the back:

“ _Think about us, Nadine, you and me – just get me out first, then I'll make it happen.”_ She cast aside the picture and got up from the floor, “What's a wealthy woman like her doing with Velaska? What's the link here?”

Kane had no answer, he could only look to Victor and hope he had an idea. 

“If she's attracted to Jeremiah, it could be a power thing, or it could be something else...”

“Like what?” Molly demanded, but Victor had already walked out of the room, and she hurried after him as her father followed.

Victor went into the front room and searched through a collection of DVDs, all had blank cases and all were marked with hearts and arrows and  _Ha Ha Ha,_ scrawled in red ink.

“What is that?” Molly asked.

“I think I know but I could be wrong, let's find out,” said Victor, and as he played the first DVD, the scarred face of Jerome Velaska loomed close to the camera as he brandished a gun and laughed manically.

“Jerome Velaska,” he explained, hitting pause as the frame froze on his crazed expression, “Jeremiah's twin. He's been dead for a few years but he has a cult following. If she's into the cult of Jerome, she'll be willing to give his twin brother anything he asked for. To her, a Jerome worshipper, getting close to him would be like serving a god.” 

Molly's eyes shone with rage as she thought of Nadine, that fucked up mess with a cult obsession who had caused harm to Oswald.

“She's dead when I find her,” she vowed, then she cast a glance around the room. As something caught her eye, she went over to the fireplace, looking up at the old black and white picture yellowed by time that was set in a gold frame. In the picture, there stood a vast and imposing house surrounded by woodland. The date on the picture said 1910. Kane joined her, taking in the impressive Victorian style of the build.

“Victor, would this have been the first Von Glass home in Gotham?”

He glanced at the picture.

“No, that's not Gotham... that looks like the first Von Glass estate, it was out in the woods, about half an hour away from the city.”

Kane and Molly exchanged a glance, both thinking the same thing and hoping they were right.

“You know this place?” Kane asked him.

“I've seen it before, I've not been to that exact spot for a few years but I know where it is.”

“Do you think it's still standing?” Molly asked.

“Maybe,” Victor replied, and now he was thinking the same idea, “If it's structurally sound it would be perfect for Valeska to hide out.”

“And Nadine would be only to happy to hand it over,” Kane agreed, “I think I know why he chose her to abduct Oswald – he wasn't being sloppy when he sent her to do his work – he wanted blind loyalty to make sure the job was done.”

Molly looked back at the picture, then turned away from it, casting a glance to her father, then to Victor.

“If that house is still standing, that;s where he's keeping Oswald.”

“Molly, wait! I need to call my people, Victor needs to call his men too! We need back up!”

“You might,” Molly was already gone from the room and heading up the hallway as the two men hurried after her, “I'm leaving now!”

They reached the door at the same time Molly opened it. Kane put a hand on his daughter's arm and she glared at him, warning him off efforts to slow her down. Victor said nothing, leaving this to Kane.

“Listen,” he said, “We can't go in there guns blazing! We need back up. Velaska will have a lot of protection around him.”

The fire in Molly's eyes was still burning.

“Makes no difference to me. I'll find a way in.”

She walked out of the apartment, heading for the elevator. Victor and Kane followed, as Kane spoke up first.

“I think we should check the place out, be sure Velaska's there. We don't want to send for back up until we know we've found him, or we could be sending our guys out of town when he could be holding Oswald elsewhere.”

They joined Molly as the elevator opened and they got in, then the doors closed and she hit the button for the ground floor.

“I agree we should wait, let's check the place out first, then make the call,” Victor agreed.

Molly said nothing. She had already made up her mind:  _As soon as they reached that place, she didn't care about how heavily guarded it was, nor would she waste time waiting for others. She was going in, she would find a way - because she needed to get Oswald out of there fast..._

 

Oswald didn't know when he had passed out, but as he felt something warm and wet carefully cleaning away the dried blood from his hair, he opened his eye slowly, looked up and saw River was back. She was leaning over him, cautiously washing the blood from his hair, then from his face. As he turned his head, she pushed something that sounded heavy out of line of vision. She looked nervous, her face had paled and as she met his gaze, she spoke softly to him.

“Oswald, can you understand me?”

“Yes,” he whispered, and that reply had taken all of his strength as he struggled to focus.

“I'm going to try and help you,” River added, “Please trust me and know that I am trying to save you... and while I do that, I'm going to talk to you... Can you still hear me okay?”

“Yes, I can hear you,” he murmured as he fought against a heavy pull of something that felt worryingly deeper than sleep. He blinked, looking up at her as she touched his head wound and he felt sharp pain.

“Sorry, I'll try and be gentle...” she had stopped cleaning him now and he felt her fingers moving carefully through his hair, sweeping it back to expose the wound. Something cold scraped against broken skin and pain registered on his face, but he kept focused on her as she started to speak: _Her name was Mooney? But Fish had said she didn't keep the baby..._

As River worked, she began to explain:

“ _Let me tell you a tale about something that happened long ago... Once upon a time, a very powerful lady in the Gotham underworld went to a doctor for an abortion. But she changed her mind, because she said she loved her umbrella boy Oswald too much to get rid of his baby. And the doctor was a kind man, and he told her if she came back when the baby was due, he would deliver it and adopt it because his wife couldn't have any children and they wanted a family of their own. Fish Mooney agreed, the only thing she insisted they agreed to was not changing the baby's name, because she named that child River. There was a reason for that, Oswald... she said the child's eyes were the same colour as the Gotham river on a bright morning, just like her umbrella boy. That is why my name is River Mooney.”_

Oswald was too weak to summon words as he looked up at her and a tear ran down his face. River's eyes were glazed as she fought against the urge to cry.

“I knew my father was an umbrella boy who worked for Fish. I was told his name was Oswald, but that was all I knew!”

Oswald took in a slow breath. It was hard to find words due to weakness and the wave of emotion that had just hit him, but he finally managed to speak.

“She said she had an abortion,” he said tearfully.

“She lied,” River told him softly, “I am very much alive!” she managed a smile despite her tears, “And now... _Dad_ , I am going to try and save you. I don't have much of a plan beyond this emergency but I _will_ think of something.”

“I trust you,” he murmured.

He kept closing his eyes and drifting in and out of awareness. River took a deep breath and pushed aside all the emotion that had made her weep as she had explained the truth, as she remembered why she was kneeling on the floor and why she had just cleaned up the wound and shaved a small area around it. Now she had to think like a doctor and hope that all she recalled from growing up with her adopted father would serve her well.

“I'm going to lift your head, I'm sorry if it hurts,” she said, and as she gently raised his head, she placed a folded towel beneath it. She glanced to the scalpel and the needle and thread that she had sterilised and placed on a tray. All three of her medical bags were open and everything was ready, and April was standing on the other side of the room, watching with a worried look on her face.

When River had first returned to the room with what she had stolen from one of the trucks outside, April had looked at her in utter confusion, wondering what she was doing with a small power drill. She had said nothing while Oswald was still out cold, and sterilised the drill bit before attaching it. She had tested the drill and then put it down again, as her guts twisted and her nerves felt shredded. She had only ever used a drill once before - to put up a shelf – very different to drilling into a skull to relieve the pressure of a bleed...

 _I've seen this done before, I can do this, I can save you, Dad,_ she repeated in her mind, then she reached for a smaller towel and placed it next to his head.

“I'm going to give you something for the pain,” she told him, trying again to block out that the man she was trying to save was her father, “You will probably pass out again for a short time and that's a good thing... when you wake up, you will feel a lot better...” she swallowed hard, “I hope,” she added, “This won't hurt, it will only take a minute...” and her hand shook as she pushed up his sleeve and sunk a needle into his arm.

Oswald felt a vague sting and gave a weak cry of protest, recognising the fact that a needle had been stuck in his arm, then he breathed out slowly, hit by the strength of the pain relief that instantly took away his suffering, dragging him into a brief time of either pain free rest, or another bout of unconsciousness. She looked over at April.

“I need your help.”

The child walked over to her and knelt down beside Oswald.

“What do you want me to do?”

“I'm going to turn his head and I need you to hold him still,” she said, “And look away, April. This could be rather gross.”

As she turned his head so the exposed wound faced the light, April held him still, with one hand on the top of his head and the other on the side of his face as she watched River clean the wound with antiseptic.

“I'm not worried about seeing blood,” April told her, “I've seen worse things. I walked in the bedroom and Nadine was under the covers with Jeremiah. _That_ was gross! She threw a hairbrush at me and it hit the door.”

“That was very cruel – and they should have locked the door,” River told her, “The more I hear about Nadine, the more I detest her! She's just as bad as Jeremiah! You're a child, you shouldn't be here in this situation!”

Then she picked up a scalpel and gently pressed it to the exposed wound and made a small slice. As she cleaned away the blood and saw a small crack in the bone beneath, she breathed a relieved sigh.

“He's been lucky, it's not a depressed fracture... It's bad enough to see, but it's not gone inward. That means no bone fragments in the surface of the brain. I really do want you to look away now, April.”

“Why?” she asked.

River's hand shook as she picked up the drill.

“Just keep his head still, and don't look,” she told her.

As the drill began to turn, April looked sharply away.

“What are you doing?”

“Be quiet... I have to do this very carefully...”

As the sound of the drill continued, April closed her eyes tightly, feeling the vibration of it run through Oswald's head as she kept him still. Then the drill stopped and April opened her eyes, watching as blood leaked from a tiny hole just below the wound, it ran through his hair and dripped on to the folded towel and River picked it up and started to clean it away.

“That's good,” she said in a shaky voice, “That's what we wanted to see... the pressure's off. There wasn't a lot of blood, either. We have to hope that was the only bleed. I can't make another hole, not without knowing where the pressure is building up.”

She cast the drill aside and picked up the curved needle.

“He just needs a couple of stitches, then I can dress the wound and we're done,” she added.

She was starting to sew him up.

“How will you know if it's worked?” April asked.

“If he wakes up again.” River's voice had trembled, “I've never done this before, I've seen it done but I've never done it myself, I don't even know how bad the fracture is, I could tell it was the source of a bleed but I'm not a qualified doctor. He's my father. I just want to save him!”

She tied off the last stitch and cut the thread, then began to tape a dressing over it. While she worked, April was thinking.

“I heard Jeremiah say he has Oswald's phone.”

“Did he say where he kept it?”

“I saw him put it in his pocket,” April replied.

River had dressed the wound. She swept his hair back, hiding it from view, then with no more towels available, she gently raised his head, folded the towel over on the clean side and rested his head against it. She watched as he breathed evenly, then took a stethoscope from her bag and listened to his chest. Satisfied his breathing and heart rate seemed steady, she put it back in her bag, then she gathered up the bloody instruments and folded them into the other towel.

“Would you take my bags back upstairs? I'll handle the rest.”

“What about Oswald?” April asked.

River sat down on the floor beside him.

“I will stay with him. I want you to go to your room and stay there until I come and fetch you. No matter what happens, stay in your room.”

“Why?”

Courage sparkled in the Gotham river shaded eyes that matched Oswald's as River managed a nervous smile.

“Because I have a plan. I'm going to steal that phone from Jeremiah! Then we can call Oswald's people and fetch help!”

“Be careful!” April warned her.

“I will be very careful, I have you and my Dad to think about,” River replied.

Just as April reached the door, River recalled something her adopted father had said to her years ago, after the first time she had helped him with a patient, and as she said April's name, the child turned back.

“You did good today,” River promised, “You did really good, I'm so proud of you.”

April glanced at Oswald, then back at River as she gave her a hopeful smile, before leaving the room and closing the door.

 

By now it was mid afternoon. The drive out of town would take longer than usual because the main route was cut off – this time by the police, because the crime scene had been discovered.

“This will add time to the journey,” Victor said as they took the long route to head out of the city.

Molly said nothing as she sat beside him, rubbing at her raw knuckles as she screwed her hand into a fist and damaged skin split and started to leak blood. Her eyes were set on the road ahead, she was thinking of nothing but reaching the destination. Kane spoke up from the back of the car.

“If the cops have found the crime scene, they'll link Velaska's name to it and the location and turn up at the house. We need a cover story. Oswald's not going to be in any fit state to talk to them.”

“We'll think of an alibi later,” Victor replied, “All we have to focus on now is finding Penguin, then making that call and sending in some real firepower.”

“How many men do you think Valeska has?” asked Kane.

They reached the end of the road and finally hit the highway.

“If Valeska succeeded and took Penguin's turf, word would soon spread and all his former gunmen and followers of the cult of Jerome would come out of the woodwork. He could have hundreds, an army within days. But right now, he's just got out of Arkham, he's needed Nadine's money to break out... that says his time locked up has made people lose faith so he's rebuilding everything, starting with nothing. I'm guessing maybe fifty to a hundred men. The raid on the warehouse would suggest that many, with weapons left over to stock pile.”

“ _We can handle fifty and Valeska.”_

Kane and Victor exchanged a glance on hearing Molly's words.

“They have machine guns,” Victor reminded her, then he looked back to the road as she stared straight ahead, still thinking about their destination.

“You've got plenty of guns in the trunk,” Molly replied.

“Yes but there's three of us, Molly! We have to think of Penguin – if we go straight in there and get ourselves caught or shot, he's dead. We have to check the place out, if he's there, we call for back up.”

Molly was still looking ahead as the breeze from the open window whipped the ends of her hair back, she pushed it off her face and the bruise to her cheek was livid.

“And the rest of the guys take a fucking hour to get there,”she replied, “That's an hour too long. We go straight in.”

 _No, we don't_ , Victor thought silently, guessing he would have to try and explain this again once they got closer to the destination – Molly was focused entirely on going into that place and getting Penguin out, but Victor had been in these kind of situations enough during his time in the underworld, and he knew planning was required - at least, that was his opinion. He could only guess at how Molly would react if they turned up and she saw Penguin held captive. He didn't doubt she would go straight in. That would mean him and Kane also going in guns blazing, and he didn't rate their chances of success very highly, considering the army Valeska had already amassed... This was going to be difficult. He just hoped Penguin was still alive. They drove on, heading out of town in silence.

 

“Are you awake? Can you hear me?”

Oswald slowly opened his eye and looked up at the young woman sat beside him. He remembered her name was River. Then he recalled the rest, and in the middle of his darkest hour, he felt like he had been handed a miracle. He blinked and a tear ran down his face as he smiled up at her.

“Fish didn't have an abortion.”

“That's right, Dad! Can I call you Dad?”

Oswald slowly raised his hand, catching hold of her hand in a weak grip. His head was vaguely aching and he still felt weak, but that sensation of sliding away from the world was gone: _Whatever she had done to him had brought him back from something... death, maybe? Had she just saved his life? If she hadn't saved him she had certainly bought him more time. He was feeling more aware and alert, and that shot of pain relief had given him some strength back, too._

“You most certainly can call me Dad,” he replied weakly, and despite the vague flickers of pain, he managed a smile, “Look at you, my dear! You're the best of me and Fish, I can see us in you so clearly!”

She gently raised his shoulders, then put two pills in his mouth and raised a glass of water to his lips.

“Swallow,” she said.

Oswald obeyed her, taking enough water to swallow the pills.

“What did you just give me?” he asked, “The pain is already under control, I feel an improvement.”

“It was April's medication,” she replied as she helped him to lay back down, “It's a standard anti anticonvulsant, just a precaution – right now you may be at risk of seizures and I want to make sure that doesn't happen.”

“I'm sure I'll be fine.”

Oswald made a move to sit upright and as he raised his head and then his shoulders, the room didn't spin quite so violently. But River put her hands on his shoulders and eased him back down to rest his head on the folded towel.

“ _No, no, no!”_ she said as panic edged into her voice, “Do _not_ get up! You have to rest! And when Jeremiah comes back, I want you to close your eyes and be still. Just let him think you're still unconscious. He won't get any fun out of hurting you if he thinks you can't feel pain. Just be unresponsive, okay?”

“You have a plan... I can see it in your eyes....”Oswald felt a flicker of panic. _This was his only child, his precious child by Fish, the child he had mourned and believed gone... until now. He couldn't risk losing her..._

“Please be careful!”

“Of course I will! I have you to think of – and April, she's ten years old and Nadine treats her terribly. I need to get you both out of here. I'm going to take your phone back from Valeska. Who should I call?”

“Victor Zsasz,” he replied as worry clouded his eyes, “But be careful, River!”

He was still gripping her hand as he looked into her eyes.

“I'll be very careful,” she promised, “Try not to worry, Dad. And you have to stay there and be still. Don't move.”

She was about to let go of his hand and get up, but Oswald briefly squeezed her hand and spoke again as emotion choked his voice.

“If I get out of this alive, I want to show you a letter... I wrote your mother a letter begging her to keep you...” he gave a weak sob, “After she told me she had you terminated, I had to stand there holding her umbrella to keep the rain off her while her thugs beat two guys with baseball bats for not paying protection money....” he gave another sob, “I was crying for you and keeping that umbrella over her so I stood in the rain so she didn't see that I was weeping! She was so cruel!”

Her gentle hand brushed his tears away.

“I may resemble her in some ways,” she replied, “But I am nothing like her. I was raised to save lives, not to take them. And I think perhaps I am more like you than her in all the ways that matter most.”

“Can I hug you?” he asked tearfully.

She leaned over him and as they embraced, his grip was weak, but he managed to hold her, and he pressed his face against her shoulder for a moment, then his daughter eased him back down again, reminding him to be still.

“Be careful,” he said again.

“Just remember what I said, if Jeremiah comes in, what do you do?”

Oswald's memory felt cloudy. He guessed she knew it would be, and that was why she had asked. Then it came back to him.

“I'm unconscious.”

“Be sure to remember that. I'll see you very soon, Dad,” she replied, then she left the room.

Oswald closed his eyes, feeling weary as pain flickered through his head and his body ached all over. The worst of the pain was gone thanks to the shot she had given him, but he didn't know how long that would last as he drifted into an exhausted sleep, hoping rest would revive him enough to find the strength to get out of this situation, and take his daughter with him.

 

Jeremiah was standing over a deep hole in the ground, watching as two of his men were digging deeper.

“Keep going,” he said as he looked down, “I want Penguin buried very deep!”

As she heard those words, a look of alarm briefly flashed to River's eyes: _He was digging this grave for her father?_ She glared at him as he stood there with his back turned. _I could push him in_ , she thought, but then she realised there were armed men all over this place. Pushing him in would do little to help. He would have her shot...she had never used a gun in her life, but she knew she needed some kind of weapon before they made their escape... Summoning her courage, she spoke up.

“Excuse me, Jeremiah...”

He turned from the open grave and looked at her. She put on a bright smile.

“Hello!” she said brightly, “ I just wanted to let you know I took good care of the patient. In fact, when he wakes, you could probably keep him alive for a few more days if you wanted to toy with him for your amusement.”

Jeremiah looked coldly at her.

“I'm not thinking about keeping Penguin alive for much longer. Possibly another day... you took your time, what did you do?”

She stepped closer, maintaining a fake warm expression as she met his gaze.

“He had a very serious head injury. I was able to take the pressure off his brain. I drilled a little hole and he's thankfully improved a great deal, but he must rest for at least and other eight hours, maybe longer. He's deeply unconscious, if you want to torture him, I suggest you wait until he wakes. It won't be much fun torturing an unconscious man.”

Anger flickered in his eyes.

“I wanted him kept conscious, what the fuck have you done?”

She stepped closer and looked into his eyes.

“I...” she paused, remembering she had to get that phone – what ever it took, she would get it and make that call... “I wanted to please you, Jeremiah. I do hope I didn't try too hard to fix him, I would never want to anger you.”

As she smiled at him, she gazed into his eyes. Jeremiah blinked, taken by surprise that Doc Mooney actually liked him that much. He had assumed she had no interest, she had always looked away when ever he stole a glance at her slender body...

Annoyance faded from his eyes as he cast a glance over the slender curves wrapped in that red leather jacket and tight jeans. He smiled and licked his lips and she smiled back, thinking about that phone.

“I think we should discuss exactly what you did for me, Doc Mooney. Let's go inside, shall we?”

“I would love to speak with you alone!” she replied, and as they headed back to the house, his hand rested on her upper back, slipped down to her waist and she stepped aside, putting a gap between them as she forced another smile.

 

Once they were inside, Jeremiah led her through to a warm room where the old furniture had been cleaned up and a fire flickered.

“Out,” he said to the armed men who stood guard.

As they left the room and closed the door behind them, River's throat went tight. It had just crossed her mind that she ought to have brought something with her to knock him out – she could have loaded a syringe with a sedative, but she had never done anything like this before. She knew she was in too deep – but she also knew she had found her father, and needed to get him out of this situation...

“So, you wanted to please me,” Jeremiah said, looking intently at River Mooney. _There was something about that girl, she seemed familiar in an odd way, but he just couldn't figure out who she reminded him of..._

“Yes,” she said, her voice barely a whisper as she took a step back, “I see the look in your eyes and it makes me nervous. I've never...” she hesitated.

He started to smile... _She was a virgin?_ He guessed it ought to come as no surprise, she had shied away from him ever since they had first met after he had escaped from Arkham...

“You told me that you had plans to establish yourself as an underworld doctor,” he replied, “perhaps, when I've taken over Penguin's turf, I can make that dream a reality for you. I can do many things, River. But it all depends on _you_.”

He smiled again. This time his smile was _much_ wider.

 _Fucking creep_ , she thought, as she forced a smile back and then remembered that phrase had been used before by some of the women who worked for Velaska. Then she noticed a few bottles and glasses on a table in the corner.

“That's an attractive offer,” she replied, “But I am very nervous. We should have a drink together first. Then we can discuss matters further.”

He went straight over to the alcohol and poured two very large gasses of red wine. _Perfect_ , thought River as the plan started to come together. She had already noted his perfectly groomed appearance, and remembered the way he had insisted she clean up the prisoner, because he was filthy. Clearly, Jeremiah cared about his image as much as his ruthless ambition...

He handed her a glass.

“Drink up,” he said, and smiled again.

“Cheers,” she replied, and as she clashed their glasses together he cursed out loud as his glass spilled and so did hers – all over his jacket.

“That was so clumsy of me!” she exclaimed, “I'm so sorry!”

Jeremiah shot her a furious look, then took off the jacket and tossed it over the back of an empty chair, then he tugged at the door and ripped it open, yelling _Fetch my spare jacket!_ And as he was about to close the door, River heard the sound of Nadine's voice coming closer as she asked a guard, _Have you seen Jeremiah?_ River's eyes flashed with a spark of glee as she realised this opportunity was too good to pass up – now she could definitely stall for time and grab that phone – Velaska was about to have a huge quarrel with his girlfriend... He wouldn't have time to think about torturing her father or burying him out in that hole, at least, not yet... She rushed over to him, tugging down the zip on her jacket as she grabbed him, right before he had a chance to close the door.

“Oh Jeremiah!” she exclaimed, “I've wanted this for so long!”

And Jeremiah, for all his careful planning, had _not_ planned for this as Nadine opened the door and stared at him.

“ _Shit...”_ he whispered.

As he tried to push her away, River clung to him, digging her fingers into his arms.

“Don't worry, I'll lie for you!” she said, rather loudly as anger burned in his gaze, then she let go of him, turned to Nadine and made a show of tugging up the zip on her jacket, the running her fingers through dark, spiked hair.

“Nothing happened!” she exclaimed, and Nadine stood there with tears in her eyes as she looked from Doc Mooney to Jeremiah.

“ _You said you loved me!”_ she yelled, _“How could you....with her? With Doc Mooney? She's fucking eighteen, she's so much younger than me!”_

Jeremiah felt a mix of anger and unease as he thought about this humiliation reaching the ears of his followers.

“Let's go upstairs and talk.”

“ _I don't want to talk!”_ she fumed.

He grabbed her by the arm and forced her out of the room, she was still protesting as he told her to shut up and said _Not now, not here_ , and they headed for the stairs. River reached into the pocket of the discarded jacket, but it was empty. She tried the other pocket, and drew out a phone. Her hands were shaking as she shoved it into her leather jacket, then with her heart pounding, and feeling a mix of fear and victory, she left the room, walked past the guards outside and headed up the stairs.

There was a terrible quarrel coming from the bedroom Nadine shared with Velaska. Then she heard breaking glass and more yelling. She hurried up the hallway, then turned the corner, went further up and quickly darted into April's room. She locked the door behind her and as April saw a smile on her face, hope shone in her eyes.

“Look what I've got!” River said in triumph, and she held up her father's phone.

“Now you can call for help,” April replied as she watched as River run through the numbers in his phone book.

“Found him – Victor Zsasz,” she said.

Then Jeremiah hammered on the door.

“ _April, open this damned door!”_ he demanded.

She looked wide eyed at River, who placed her hands on her shoulders and whispered to her as she laid down her plan. Moments later as Jeremiah yelled again, the door opened. He stared down at the sight of April, standing there with hair messed up from sleep as she rubbed tired eyes and clutched a dusty old doll tightly.

“Why are you yelling? I was asleep!”

He looked into the room: _There was no sign of Doc Mooney. He was sure she would have hid away with the kid if she thought he was angry, but the room was empty..._

“Why did you lock the door?” he demanded.

“Because I woke up and I heard you and Aunt Nadine yelling. Can I go back to sleep?”

He gave a sigh of frustration. Clearly, Doc Mooney was not here...

“Yes, go back to sleep. And be sure to tell me if you see Doc Mooney!”

“Why?” she asked.

“I had a misunderstanding with Nadine...” he shook his head, “It doesn't matter... he turned away, _“I need a fucking drink!”_ he muttered.

April watched as he walked away, then she closed the door and quietly locked it. Further away, she heard Nadine's raised voice again as she followed him down the stairway. As April turned from the door, River scrambled out from under the bed.

“Let's make that call!” she said, and she ran through the address book, found Victor's number and waited as the phone began to ring, but there was no answer.

“Come on!” she said urgently, “Pick up the phone, Victor!”

And still the phone was ringing as she stood there waiting for an answer, desperately hoping he would pick up the call, because her father's time was running out: _She could see it from the window, that open grave was finished now, and it was very deep..._

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

The car pulled up off the road, hidden beneath trees as more leaves shed and landed on its roof as the breeze picked up strength. Molly got out first, drawing her gun from her pocket as Kane followed. Victor was yet to draw his guns as he left the vehicle. He led the way into the woodland, then he heard his phone ring. The three of them stopped, and when he saw the caller's identity and said, _It's Penguin!_ Molly turned back, staring at him in disbelief.

“It can't be. They would have taken his phone!”

Victor answered the call. The signal cut in and out and then came in clear again.

“Penguin?”

“ _No, my name is River Mooney. I'm the daughter of Fish and Oswald is my father.”_

“What?” Victor said in confusion.

“I'll explain later... I got my Dad's phone away from Jeremiah. I'm upstairs hiding with a ten year old child, she's in danger as much as I am... My father is downstairs, he's locked in a room. He has a head injury and I have medical experience so I was able to treat it, but he needs to get to a hospital. We are at the Von Glass estate just outside of Gotham.”

“And we've just arrived, thank you, Miss Mooney,” he replied, looking to Kane and Molly, “So he's alive?”

“Yes. He's got a head injury, cracked ribs, bruises... Velaska battered him. And he's had a grave dug outside the house. My Dad doesn't have long, you need to move fast, Jeremiah is planning to kill him!”

Victor thought quickly.

“Okay, I'm calling for back up... How many men does Velaska have?”

She paused for thought.

“Fifty, maybe sixty...”

“Okay, you stay downstairs with Penguin and take the kid with you. Try and get in that room and stay with him until we come and get you out. There's going to be a lot of bullets flying around. Stay together and stay low.”

“Please hurry!” River added, then the call ended.

“The rumour was true!” Victor exclaimed.

“What rumour?” asked Kane.

“There was talk many years back that Fish got pregnant by one of her umbrella boys and she either terminated the pregnancy or left town to have the baby. I do know around the time Oswald was working for her, she once left town for a few months, said it was a business trip... that girl – River Mooney - she talks _exactly_ like Penguin!”

Molly was already standing by the shadow of the tree line, ready to venture further into the woods.

“Wait!” Kane said sharply, “Let me call the lads first.”

“I'll call my people too, it's another hour before they'll get over here with the road diverted, Miss Mooney said there are maybe sixty men protecting Velaska. We can easy take them out with back up,” replied Victor.

Kane made his call as he stood by the car, then Victor walked a short distance into the empty road and called his men, telling them to get over to the old Von Glass estate, because Velaska was holding Penguin.

Molly stood there watching as she listened to the arrangements being made. Then Kane finished his call first, and looked to his daughter.

“One of us needs to wait here for the others to arrive,” he said.

Molly shook her head.

“I'm going in!”

Victor stepped closer to the woodland and glanced back at Kane, and as he followed, Molly joined them and he saw a clear path through the trees to the house.

“We need to get a closer look,” she said.

“You wait for back up,” Victor told Kane, “No matter what happens, you need to meet the guys and lead them in.”

“What about you?” Kane asked.

Victor looked to the tree line, where Molly was already making her way in closer.

“She won't wait,” he replied, “We both know that.”

Kane patted the shoulder of his leather jacket.

“Thanks for doing this.”

“I may live to regret it, but she can't go in alone – and Penguin needs my help,” Victor added, then he disappeared into the woodland as Kane waited behind on the road side, feeling a little more reassured to know that Molly wouldn't be alone as she ventured closer to the house.

“Be careful,” Kane murmured, as his thoughts stayed with his daughter and with Victor, who had clearly made this decision to try and offer Molly some back up – if they were caught, she would certainly need it... As he watched the road, he gave a sigh and checked his watch, feeling sure the wait for the rest of the guys to arrive would pass by painfully slowly. This was starting to feel like the hardest wait of his life, with time crawling by as he worried for his daughter, wondering if she would be coming out of those woods alive...

 

Molly had seen the house close by. As soon as her sights were set on it, she turned to walk towards it, and as Victor put a hand on her shoulder she spun around sharply, glaring at him.

“Oswald's in there! We could easily find a way in!”

“There's too many of them!” Victor replied in a low voice, and as they both moved closer to a gap in the trees, he indicated to the trucks and the armed men.

“If we follow the woodland around the back of the house, I think we might find a way in – but we have to do it slowly.”

“And if Velaska brings Oswald outside and over to that open grave?” she demanded, “What then, Victor?”

He didn't have to think about the answer.

“We kill Velaska. Then his people kill us _and_ Penguin! We really need to hold off on the rescue, Molly. Once we have back up, we can go in.”

Molly checked her watch. The skies were clouding and with it, the world was darkening under its grey stormy shade, making the woods even darker despite the gaps where leaves had started to shed.

As they made their way around the woods the area suddenly got bigger, stretching out for miles away from the road. Victor headed deeper into the darkness, just about keeping the house in his line of vision, and when they had gone halfway, he stopped.

“This is what we are up against,” he murmured, “Look...”

And Molly looked through the gap in the woodland, catching sight of the many armed men and the vehicles around the side of the house. There were more around the back.

“We should go back,” Victor said in a low voice, “There's too many of them around here – when the guys show up, we can attack from the front, it's less guarded, plus the vehicles are all around the back.”

“I counted seven men out the front,” Molly replied, “But it won't take long for the rest to come running.”

“We can't afford to wait for nightfall,” Victor added, I saw that grave.”

“So did I,” Molly said in a hushed voice, and then she crept close to the shadows, making her way further around the woodland that surrounded the house.

“Molly, come back!” he whispered, _“Molly -”_

But she just glanced back at him and carried on walking, her sights set on the house, then to the shadows all around as she clutched her gun tightly, listening for unwanted company. Victor gave a sigh. There was no holding her back. She wanted to go all the way around these woods and she wouldn't stop until she found a way in. This was going to be a rough day...

“ _Fuck it!”_ he said under his breath, and quickly followed her.

Now the woods were dense and darker and every step sounded like crushed wet leaves or the snaps of old twigs, they kept stopping, listening, only to hear the trees rustle or the occasional sound of birds above. They had reached the place where the woodland overlooked that back of the vast house. As light rain began to fall and pattered on the tree tops and escaped though as tiny drips that rapidly grew bigger as the rain fell harder, Molly's sight was set on the back of the house.

“That could be a way in.”

“It's too heavily guarded.”

“Obstacles can be useful,” Molly replied, “You're looking at armed guards. I'm seeing those trucks and thinking about cover.”

She paused, looking to the windows of the old house.

“He's definitely downstairs?”

“That's what his daughter said,” Victor replied.

“ _I can see a back way in.”_

She still had that burning focus in her eyes, thinking of nothing but saving Oswald. As he heard her make that statement, Victor shook his head, looking to the back door of the house, beyond the guards and the parked vehicles.

“Too risky. Maybe there's a window around the other side?”

“Let's find out.”

She was walking on, oblivious to the rain and the chill and the slippery woodland floor as she crept around the treeline, keeping her sights set on that house. Victor stepped deeper into the shadows, both guns ready and looking left and right as he heard nothing but the rainfall and saw no hint of unexpected company. He wanted to call her back and say it was time to wait for the others, because he was getting a feeling that the deeper they went, the sooner they would run into trouble. But Molly had her own ideas, she didn't share his view on planning for the end result. She was feeling every second that ticked by as if it could be the last beat of Penguin's heart. She was going to do this her way, and he guessed he would wind up following her in, because the deeper they went, the further they travelled from the road and the much needed back up that was on the way...

As two armed men stepped into view, for a split second, it was a surprise to both parties. One man dropped a cigarette, then raised his gun as the other opened fire and Molly ran and Victor ducked a hail of bullets. As the rain fell harder, Victor rolled and slid down a small slope, firing back. As Molly leapt over a fallen tree branch and turned back, she fired off shots. One was a hit, it punched into the face of the first shooter as blood and bone exploded, as he fell the second man sent a spray of fire in her direction, she jumped from the slope, slipped and rolled, yelling as her jacket caught and ripped on the jagged end of a fallen tree, its bark was in half, part scorched by lightning and a shard of wood had slashed her jacket, coming to a stop as it stabbed into her shoulder. Molly gritted her teeth and slammed her hand against the bark, yelling as an inch of wood came away bloody, leaving a slash up her chest and a small hole in her shoulder where blood was mixing with falling rain.

“ _This way!”_ she hear Victor shout.

Molly turned her head to see him heading further through the woodland, back towards the road. In the rush of the pouring rain, she didn't hear the second gunman as he crept up behind her, landing a hand on her shoulder as she turned around faster than he expected, butting him with her head, then as he staggered back and she made a grab for the gun, she rammed it upwards against his bloodied face as he squeezed the trigger and shots rained into the air. Her boots were sliding in mud as she ducked a punch, then she slammed her gun beneath his chin and pulled the trigger. The single shot sent a burst of blood and brains and bone fragment scattering about the woodland as the body fell.

Molly heard distant shouts, guessed the gunfire was audible even above the teeming downpour, and she clutched at her bleeding shoulder and ducked low, making a run through the trees, heading back for the road. As she cleared the treeline and headed for the car, Victor was limping towards it and she saw he was leaving a trail of blood behind him. He had taken a bullet to his leg, and as she ran to catch up with him, she put her arm around him and helped him quickly towards the car. As he saw them coming, Kane reversed back up the road and Molly wrenched open the passenger door as Victor got inside.

“What happened?” Kane demanded.

“We've got company.” Victor replied, “We'll have to move the car, because they'll check the road... we can pull up around the corner... I'm also hit...But I've got a first aid kit, I can kill the pain and keep going, at least until we get Penguin back.”

As the rain began to slow, they heard distant shouts – the bodies had been discovered.

“Get in, we have to move out!” Kane said urgently to Molly.

“ _You go!”_

He stared at his daughter.

“ _Are you fucking crazy? They're coming for us, we have to get out of sight, get in the car, Molly, there's no time!”_

All he saw in reply was that burning fury in her eyes as she slammed the car door shut and stood there in the rain as her wet hair clung to her face and soaked her muddy clothing.

“ _Molly!”_ he yelled again, his eyes wide with alarm.

“ _Go!”_ she shouted, and hammered hard on the closed window of the car, _“Just go, Dad!”_

Victor said something in the back and her father shot her one last desperate look of concern, then the car shot off with a screech of tires on road surface, heading for the other end of the road and a turning where they could park out of sight. The sounds of voices were getting louder as Velaska's men made their way through the woodland. Molly ran across the road and into the other side of the wooded area, where she hid, watching and waiting. As soon as the armed men were gone, she was going back, she was finding a way in – and now, she would be going alone...

 

At the house, Jeremiah had shut himself away from Nadine, in front of a warm fire with a drink in his hand, oblivious to the brewing trouble until he was informed shots had been heard in the woodland. Now he waited anxiously by the window, waiting for his men to come back and report their findings. Clearly the shots had been a small exchange of fire – perhaps the situation was contained, for now... He didn't doubt of one of Penguin's men had found his way here, but how? He saw no reason for anyone to make a link between him and a property belonging to Nadine Von Glass...

Thinking of her made him take another drink, as he thought about the possible risk to his plans if she walked away. He needed her money, at least, for now... Once he had control of Penguin's turf, she was disposable. But at this moment, especially after hearing shots, he saw a threat to his plans. As long as a threat existed, he needed to keep Nadine on his side... Then there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” he said, finishing his drink and throwing on his spare jacket.

The guard who entered the room looked pale and shaken.

“Two guards shot dead in the woodland...we've swept the area, there's no sign of anyone. It's deserted out there.”

“ _Excuse me...”_

On hearing Doc Mooney's voice, Jeremiah gave a heavy sigh.

“What?” he snapped.

“I need to check on the patient. You said you wanted him awake, I may be able to wake him for you... it could take some time but I can bring him back to consciousness if you wish.”

“What ever, just get out of my sight!” he said sharply, and Doc Mooney quickly left the room.

Jeremiah looked back at the waiting guard.

“You're sure there's no one out there?”

He nodded.

“Positive, Jeremiah, sir. They either backed off because they were out numbered, or maybe they were hit and they're somewhere in a ditch bleeding out. There's no one in the woods now.”

“Very well, but tell the men to be watchful. And start loading up the trucks. After I kill Penguin, we're moving out.”

The guard left the room and Jeremiah poured another drink, planning to next go upstairs and speak with Nadine – it was time to move on, she needed to provide him with another property...

 

Oswald was pulled from deep sleep by the sound of the door closing. He remembered where he was as pain flickered through his body and a dull ache throbbed in his head. But the pain was bearable now, and as he saw River and April had entered the room, he breathed a relieved sigh: _She had come back safe. That was all that mattered, Velaska had not killed her..._

She knelt down beside him and smiled as victory shone in her eyes.

“I got your phone back,” she said, “And I called Victor. He said they were already here, they'd just arrived. Apparently there were some shots fired in the woods a few moments ago. But I wouldn't worry too much – Victor will call for back up, and he said we have to stay here with you because soon the bullets will start flying.”

Then she turned to April and the child handed her a folded blanket.

“I took this off my bed,” River added, unfolding it and then draping it over him up to his shoulders, “I know the floor is very cold and uncomfortable, but at least you'll be warmer now. How are you feeling?”

“I ache all over, I'm still rather weak. But I feel a little better. What did you do to me while I was unconscious, my head feels so much clearer, I can actually think again!”

“I just treated your injury,” River replied, deciding it was best not to tell him the details at this moment. Later when they were out of here, she could explain everything. What mattered now was keeping her father safe and calm until help arrived.

“Can you see okay?” she asked him.

He looked up at her and smiled.

“I can see perfectly well with my good eye,” he said, “but I don't think there's much hope for the other one!”

As he indicated the empty eye socket and laughed, he realised this was the first time he had ever managed to laugh at himself in this way, and strangely, it felt rather good.

“I want you to know something,” he said, taking hold of her hand, “If I don't make it out of here, I shall die a happy man, knowing my daughter is alive and well. And you must stay that way, River! No matter what happens to me, take April and get out of here!”

She gave his hand a squeeze.

“I'm not going anywhere without you, Dad,” she promised, “All we have to do is wait, help is on the way now. And I managed to stall Velaska. I caused a fight between him and Nadine. I'm hoping he's got too much on his mind to think about hurting you again. Your people will be here soon, and then we'll all get out alive.”

Oswald smiled again as he looked up at his daughter.

“You're smart like me, you have an instinct for survival,” he said.

April joined them, sitting the other side of Oswald.

“She is smart, and she's my friend, too,” she told him.

Oswald looked fondly from April to his daughter.

“I hope I make it out of here. I want you to meet Molly, she's my girlfriend. I love her so very much...” suddenly emotion choked his voice, “She must be so worried about me! I have to get through this, I must to see her again!”

A look of panic had reflected in his eye as he looked up at River.

“It's okay, Dad,” she said softly, “Stay calm, you will get out of here.”

Oswald took a deep breath, breathing out slowly as he tried to focus on the fact that rescue was possible.

“You will see Molly again,” River assured him, and she kept a firm grip on his hand as they sat together, waiting for rescue.

 

The rain had stopped. The men who searched the woodland had gone now. Molly was kneeling in mud as she hid on the other side of the road, in the dark of the dense treeline, and she checked her watch. Not long to go, help would be here soon... _But maybe not soon enough for Oswald._ That thought was all she needed to breathe through the pain and strip off her wet jacket an cast it aside. Beneath it, her sweater was torn and as she pressed against the wound to her shoulder, blood leaked out and she felt the unmistakeable sharpness of a very large splinter embedded there. Some of the wood must have snapped off when she had got impaled and she guessed it was large and pretty deep because movement was painful. She closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths and pushed her fingertips hard against the wound, grasping at the end of the splintered wood. As she gripped it, she pulled and it felt like a razor slicing through flesh as it came out, long and bloody. She fell forward, her palms sinking into mud as she held back on yelling out and the pain throbbed and blood dripped from the hole, splashing into a muddy puddle below her. Then she recovered her breath, got up and wiped her hands on her torn sweater. Realising it was soaked, she took that off too, then turned it inside out and pressed the clean side to the shoulder wound, and as she took it away the bleeding slowed.

She was sure she ought to be feeling the cold now, but adrenaline was kicking in and she cast the sweater aside, now she only wore a black vest on her upper body, but at least it wasn't damaged. There was a red slash that ran from her upper chest to the hole in her shoulder, but for now, the pain was bearable. She ignored the aches in her arms and the tight, raw skin on her knuckles as she reached around, took her gun from her back pocket and checked her weapon, then she put it back in her pocket and ran across the road, returning to the woods that led to the house. This time she headed straight for the dense, dark area, going deep into the woods, away from armed patrols as she made her way carefully across a woodland floor covered with wet leaves and mud beneath it.

She heard a sound somewhere back at the road, the car had returned. Kane and Victor would be waiting for their men to arrive, her Dad's men and Oswald's would make a strong enough army...but they were not here yet and the clock was ticking. She picked up her pace, heading for the place where back of the house was visible. What she saw was worrying:

 _Many of Velaska's men were busy loading up trucks. It looked like they were planning to move out... If he was making a run for it, he would most likely kill Oswald first..._ She ducked back out of sight as two guards walked away from the shade of the woodland, then she ran around to the side of the house. There she saw an open window on the ground floor, and waited for some men loading a truck to turn their backs to lift a crate of guns, then she ran for the window, ducked down and looked in, seeing an old kitchen with a tiled floor and wooden cupboards. The room was empty. She climbed up and quietly slipped inside, then as blood ran down her shoulder, she swiped it away with her palm and wiped her hand on her jeans. Her shoulder still throbbed. She made it to the door and looked down a long, narrow hallway, saw it was empty and made her way up the hall, here several doors were open, and these rooms were clearly empty too. Then the hallway took a turn and she glanced around the corner, saw no one about, and passed a dusty old dining room where chairs were stacked on a large table, then she passed a library where paper was peeling from damp walls. Then she heard the sound of footsteps approaching the front door.

“ _I want everything packed up and ready to leave in fifteen minutes, I want all the men assembled at the front of the house to witness the execution. I'm not wasting more time when his people could show up and start shooting. I'm not delaying this any longer, I'm going to kill Penguin.”_

As Jeremiah's shadow became visible through the antique glass set in the front door, she raced up the stairs, waiting at the top out of sight, watching as he entered the house. Two guards accompanied him.

“Fetch Penguin,” he said, “Take him outside. I want him to kneel at his open grave before I put a bullet in his head,” then he lingered at the bottom of the stairs and called up, “Hurry, Nadine! We are leaving very soon!”

“Yes, I know!”

The sharp reply had come from behind a door close by.... _This was Nadine? The woman who had slammed a hammer into Oswald's head?_ Molly's eyes blazed as she glanced towards the closed door. But then as Jeremiah left the house again, the guards walked down the hallway, and opened up a door.

“ _No, you can't take him anywhere, Jeremiah knows he needs more time to regain consciousness -”_

Molly listened. That had to be Oswald's daughter. Her voice was so like her father... she was still talking, trying to stall for time as a child spoke up, saying _No, you can't take him, he has to rest..._

Then the bedroom door opened. Nadine came face to face with a bruised and bloodied woman, there was a gash to her upper chest and an open wound to her shoulder, her wet hair hung to her shoulders, part shading eyes that blazed with rage. Nadine dropped her suitcase as Molly lunged at her, then she stumbled, falling over the case as she took Molly down with her.

“ _What did you do to Oswald?”_ Molly said darkly, aiming a punch that missed as Nadine struggled and dodged a blow from her raw knuckles.

The next blow hit her jaw with a crack, and Nadine kicked out, then as she reached under the bed and grasped something, she glared back at the woman raining blows on her. For a moment Molly saw victory in her eyes, then she saw a flash of steel and gave a gasp as a knife sliced into her side. The pain made her buckle, she sagged as Nadine pushed her off, and rolled on to her back, then Nadine stumbled towards the door blocked by the dropped case. Molly sucked in a breath and grasped the handle, pulling out the blade as she scrambled to her feet. She plunged it into Nadine's shoulder, then dragged it out, slamming her head against the door as she tried to cry out. She stabbed her again, then a third time, and as she pulled out the blade, Nadine hit the floor and rolled on to her back, dead eyes staring lifeless at the ceiling.

Molly dropped the blade and pressed a hand to her side. Blood ran through her fingers and pain throbbed. She stepped over the suitcase and made her way to the top of the stairs, for a moment she felt dizzy as pain made her head light, then with a hand pressed to the wound, she staggered down the stairs, seeing the front door was open now. She heard a child crying and as she reached the bottom of the stairs, April blinked away tears as the woman who stood beside her looked at her with panic in her eyes – those eyes were the same shade as Oswald. Her hair was black and spiked, her nose was just like his, she even had the same slender build her father had in his youth. River Mooney looked so much like her father it was incredible.

“I'm Molly,” she said quickly, taking her hand away from the stab wound as she reached for her gun, “Where's Oswald?”

River blinked. She was still staring at the sight of the bruised and wounded woman who kept pressing a hand to her side as another injury leaked blood.

“They just took him outside, you must hurry, Jeremiah wants to kill him!”

“You stay here with the kid,” she told her, then her voice darkened, _“Jeremiah is my problem now.”_

 

Oswald had struggled, but that had taken precious energy and as his legs gave way and he begged for mercy, his cries were not answered as the armed men forced him to kneel at the edge of the open grave. Oswald looked down into it and tears streaked his face, all he could think was this was not how he wanted his life to end, not after all the struggle and the years of fighting and pain and loss and sacrifice... And he didn't want to die now, not when he had finally found happiness in every way, life had been perfect, Molly had been the missing piece of his heart, and now he would never see her again... He gave a sob as Jeremiah stood over him. 

“And this is how it ends for you,” he said, putting the gun to the back of Oswald's head as he looked up to his men, who stood assembled, bearing witness to the execution, and as he smiled, he addressed them, keeping the gun to the back of Oswald's head as he spoke:

“Today marks the beginning of a new era for Gotham!” he announced, “With the death of Penguin, a new ruler of the underworld shall emerge victorious!”

There were shouts of  _ Jeremiah _ , and he looked up to the skies as his smile got bigger, then suddenly, the crowd fell silent. He blinked. They were no longer looking at him, but  _ behind _ him...

He lowered the gun and stepped away from Oswald, who slumped to the ground as he sobbed, as pain and weakness took over again. As Jeremiah turned around, he stared in genuine surprise to see Molly MacQueen standing a short distant behind him, she was covered in cuts and bruises and her hair hung damp in her face, and murderous rage blazed in her eyes. As she raised her gun, so did Jeremiah.

“ _I'm here for Oswald,”_ she stated _“Hand him over and I'll be on my way.”_

Jeremiah smiled as his gaze reflected ice.

“I'm afraid that won't be possible. But at least you can share the same grave. I don't have time to have my men dig another one.”

“I'll kill you if you don't step aside,” she said, “I just came here for Oswald. Hand him over, this is your last chance.”

Despite his weakness, as he lay there slumped in a heap on the damp ground, Oswald had heard her voice... _ Molly was here? Molly was threatening Jeremiah? _ Then he recalled what Kane had told him about how she had avenged Liam's death. He could hear it in her voice, raw strength and fearlessness, a resignation to succeed or die trying. 

“ _Please help me, Molly...”_ he whispered, but no one heard him. 

Jeremiah was standing there, weapon raised as Molly faced him, her gun aiming back. Jeremiah's men were still standing there, assembled like a small army, weapons packed away, ready to move out as soon as Jeremiah carried out the execution. There was silence as no sound passed through the woodland but the rustle of dry leaves. All who stood there watching had eyes on Jeremiah and the woman who faced him as their weapons stayed trained on each other.

“I can assure you I have no fear of you, Molly,” Jeremiah told her as he laughed, “You're Penguin's woman! I fear no one, especially not the woman who would dedicate her life to that limping, pathetic bird man! Put the gun down, before I lose my temper.”

Her aim stayed firm.

“ _Hand him over,”_ she repeated, _“Or I'll kill you.”_

“No, you won't,” Jeremiah replied, fixing her with a cold glare, “I will kill you and then him and then _I'll_ be on my way.”

She glared back at him through damp hair that half shaded her face as rage burned bright in her eyes.

“Then you'd better give it your best shot,” she warned him darkly, “You'll only get one chance!”

And he stared at her, his aim steady as she aimed back, and then she thought of that dream... and Liam had said...  _ Trust your instinct _ . She did, as his gaze hardened and his finger twitched to squeeze the trigger, she fired first, and the shot punched into his shoulder, knocking him off his feet as he fell hard, the gun slipping from his grasp and as he grabbed at his shoulder and sat up, he was gasping for breath. That gun had a powerful kick, it had shattered bone. As she took a step closer, Molly saw movement, and she watched as armed men came out from the shadows, led by her father and Victor. 

“They're mostly unarmed,” Victor remarked.

“But an army of fanatics,” Kane replied as his eyes darkened, “Let's finish 'em!”

Victor nodded and gave the signal, and as the few of Velaska's men who had hand guns drew them, the surrounded army of Jeremiah were downed in hail of bullets as their bodies jerked on impact and bullets punched bloody holes into flesh and bone. The roar of gunfire echoed about the clearing in front of the house for less than a minute, then the guns fell silent and Victor turned to a colleague, instructing him to arrange disposal of the bodies as he handed him a number, saying he knew a guy with a crematorium who would be in for a busy night. Then he turned back to Kane.

“Let's get Penguin out of here.”

The two men left the others to clear out the trucks and pile up the bodies, and they hurried towards Oswald, who was slumped on the ground.

Molly had not finished with Velaska. 

“ _YOU. FUCKING. DID. THIS. TO. MY. OSWALD! YOU. PIECE. OF. FUCKING. SHITE!”_ she raged, and every word shouted was punctuated by a kick to Velaska as he yelled out in pain. She was kicking his ribs, his face, his guts, and finally, she kicked him so hard he rolled over the edge of the open grave, yelling out in pain and panic as he landed at the bottom with a splash in the muddy earth below. 

She stood over the grave glaring down, then to his horror, she grabbed the shovel and began to shovel earth back in. 

“ _NO! Stop, Please, no...”_ Valeska screamed.

As more dirt hit his face he coughed and choked and panicked. Then Molly heard Victor had just said Oswald's name, and as he gave a weak response, she briefly watched as Victor put an arm around his shoulders and carefully raised him from the ground. It was then she saw something on the edge of the grave. It was Velaska's phone. She had kicked him so hard it had come out of his pocket. And clearly, she had fucked up the phone as well as its owner because now it stated it only took emergency calls... She looked down into the grave. Valeska was a bloody, mud covered sobbing mess at the bottom, and he had seen to it that grave was so deep there was no way anyone could climb out without a ladder... 

She held up the phone as she called to Victor and her father.

“Emergency calls only. If he wants a way out of here, he'll have to call the cops!”

Victor called one of his men over.

“Before you leave,” he said, “Give Valeska a choice – the cops or a bullet,” and Molly tossed the phone to him and he caught it and passed it over. 

Molly looked down into the open grave, glaring at Velaska.

“ _And don't even think about grassing on any of us for this!”_ she yelled, _“If you do, I'll personally rip off your fucking head and mount it on a spike outside Arkham!”_

Molly leaned over the grave and spat at Valeska, then turned her back and walked away. Now the threat was removed, her focus was on getting Oswald out of here.

 

As she hurried over, April had run from the house with a blanket and Victor had wrapped him in it. As Kane joined them, he looked to the young woman who was anxiously watching Oswald.

“I'm his daughter, I'm River Mooney,” she said quickly as her eyes filled with worry and she rattled off her words anxiously, “He needs urgent treatment to stop internal bleeding. Possible swelling or pressure to the brain also... he had a bleed close to the point of impact and I removed it surgically. The skull fracture is not depressed. I'm not a qualified doctor but I did my best for him. He's had a shot of morphine and a dose of anti anticonvulsant medication. He needs expert treatment and quickly, he was okay while he was resting but he's losing consciousness again! I tried to stop them taking him, he shouldn't have been moved, but Jeremiah -”

Victor put a hand on her shoulder.

“Okay, I hear you,” he said gently, hoping his tone would keep her calm, and then he glanced to Kane, “I'm taking him to Strange. He's got stuff that stops bleeding and speeds up healing. The hospital won't be able to help him as much as Strange can.”

“I want to go with my Dad!” River was close to tears.  


Victor called to one of his men, telling him River needed a ride to visit Strange.

“You wait for your ride, we'll see you there,” he told her, and then he lifted Oswald into his arms and began to carry him away from the house, towards the place where the woods were less dense and beyond, the car was parked. The bullet to his leg was sharply painful with every step - but it was a flesh wound and he was in much better shape than Penguin, he thought silently, as he led the way towards the road and Molly and Kane joined him. 

 

They cleared the woodland quickly, then Kane got in the front and Molly sat in the back, as Victor laid Oswald on the back seat, she carefully cradled his head in her lap. Then Victor started the engine and they drove away quickly, the rainy woodland either side of the road becoming as a blur as they headed towards a route that would take them to the treatment centre owned by Professor Hugo Strange.

As they drove, Molly took hold of Oswald's hand.

“Stay with me,” she said, “I'm right here, Oswald.”

He gave her hand a weak squeeze and for a brief moment his eye opened and as he saw her, he breathed a relieved sigh.

“You got me out.”

“Yes I did.”

“Thank you, my dear...” he was starting to drift back into unconsciousness.

“Oswald,” she said, “Stay awake, stay with me. I'm not asking, I'm _telling_ you!”

“I'm trying,” he murmured, and he knew at once that being dragged from that room and forced to kneel by the grave had caused his weakness to surge back. He was still trying to stay awake. Molly was here, and she looked like she'd been in a hell of a fight. Then he began to think :

_ She went through all that for me, because she loves me _ - _ I must be far more special than I realised, for her to risk so much to save me...I must really matter...  _

For all that her love had done to heal his self doubts and low esteem, knowing what she had done for him today had healed something that he had never realised needed fixing – he mattered, he was all the things Molly said he was, and when this was over, when he was recovered, the world was going to see a new, confident Penguin... That was his last thought before he lost consciousness again. 

Molly said his name twice, then she ran her hand over his hair as he breathed slow and even but gave no response. Molly looked to the front of the car, addressing Victor with that same tone she had used since her fight to save Oswald had begun.

“Drive faster,” she demanded, “He can't hold on much longer!”

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

 

An hour later, while Strange treated Oswald's injuries, Kane and Victor sat in a waiting area with Molly. Kane was concerned for his daughter, she was leaning back in that chair and pressing her hand to a small stab wound as she tried to breathe through pain, the wound to her shoulder was throbbing, she was covered in cuts and bruises. Strange had told her she needed medical attention, but she had just replied, _“Look after Oswald first.”_ Then Strange had asked Victor if he needed one of his staff to treat his bullet wound. _“It's a flesh wound, I know a guy who can take care of it later,”_ Victor had replied, _“I'll just wait here until I know Penguin's okay.”_

Kane looked up the corridor, and saw April waiting alone. Then the door to the treatment room opened, and as Strange left the room with River, he saw River smile as she briefly spoke to her, then the child joined her and they went up the corridor, heading for the waiting area. Molly rose from her seat first, pressing a hand to the stab wound as she looked at Strange.

“How is he?”

“Oswald is understandably very weak,” he replied, “But his condition should improve greatly within the next twenty four to forty eight hours. The surgery carried out by Miss Mooney was successful. He won't need any further surgery, but he does need very powerful medication to stop internal bleeding, and to speed up healing in general – including the head injury, which was potentially life threatening. He's not stable yet, that will take time. He should be out of danger very soon, and regaining consciousness within three days. Once he begins to recover, he can go home - but he will need to take medication every day for at least a month and have complete rest.”

“So he's going to be okay?” Molly asked.

“I would like to say yes, but these situations are not definite - there's a risk the treatment could fail. In most cases, it works well. I'm afraid that's all I can tell you at this moment. Right now, Oswald is not stable, he's critical. And Molly, you have some injuries that need treating.”

“He's right, love,” said her father, “Go with him and that stab wound closed up. And your shoulder needs stitches too.”

“I just want to be here for Oswald, I can wait,” she said, and her shoulder throbbed as she pressed her hand against the wound to her side.

“Molly,” warned Strange, “You will be no good to Oswald if you collapse with untreated injuries.”

She looked back at him in defiance.

“I have to be here for him.”

Strange paused for thought. It was clear Molly had gone through hell to save Oswald, and he guessed she wouldn't put herself above his needs unless he could offer a compromise.

“Once I have treated your wounds, you will need to rest. How would you like it if I put your bed in the same room as Oswald? You can rest and still be there for him.”

“Yes, that would be just fine,” Molly agreed, then as she walked away with Strange, she shot him a warning glance, adding “I need to be awake, in case Oswald needs me. _Don't_ sedate me.”

Kane watched as they walked off, then he glanced to Victor.

“It sounds like Oswald stands a chance.”

Victor nodded.

“Yes, it does, thankfully,” he got up stiffly as his wounded leg ached.

“I'm off to get my leg fixed. I'll call you later, let me know how Penguin's doing.”

Kane nodded, then Victor headed for the exit. Kane gave a weary sigh, as his heart ached for his daughter and all she had gone through. And Oswald wasn't out of danger yet. He couldn't even begin to imagine how Molly would take it if she lost him now... She had been through enough grief losing Liam. To lose another man she loved would destroy her. He had seen it, that same look as she had hunted down Jeremiah had been in her eyes when she had taken revenge for Liam's death. Molly had been through hell on earth to save Oswald. She couldn't lose him now... Then someone sat beside him.

“Molly was incredible. I'm so thankful to her for saving my father!”

It was River. He smiled warmly.

“You're a lot like your old man, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Not until today, now everyone seems to be saying it,” she replied as pride shone in her gaze, “I am so thrilled to find him, and to know of his reputation!”

“I bet you're proud,” Kane replied with a smile, “I mean, he's Penguin, he runs the underworld!”

“Well yes, there is that aspect, but there's something else too – he was Mayor of Gotham! _My Dad used to be Mayor!_ ”

She sounded so thrilled. Kane laughed.

“Apparently so, for a short time. But I think he's much more at home with underworld business, River.”

“When I was younger, I heard of Mayor Cobblepot. But I didn't know his name was Oswald and I didn't know he used to be Fish Mooney's umbrella boy. My father has lead such an exiting life!”

“And what about you, River?” Kane asked, “What do you want to do with your life?”

“I want to set myself up as an underworld doctor, like my adopted father used to be,” she replied, “I was talking to Professor Strange and he said, as I have ability and I'm Oswald's daughter, he's happy to offer me a job here, he wants to train me. He said a couple of years working for him will get me all the qualifications I need to set up my own practise.”

“And she's going to adopt me!” April exclaimed as she stood there beside River and smiled brightly.

Kane looked at her doubtfully.

“You want to work for Strange, set up your own business and handle a ten year old? She's going to be a teenager by the time you've established your practise, do you have any idea how tough it can be, bringing up kids? You're eighteen years old, River. Imagine you're running your practise and there's been a big shooting and you've got several people full of bullet wounds and they're all emergencies – and she's waiting to be collected from school or there's been a problem at school and the teacher needs to see you. What are you going to do?”

“I'll cope,” she assured him.

“I wanted a big family with my Julia,” he added, “But she had complications when Molly was born. She's our only child, and bringing her up was hard work. Raising kids is tough. And what about the other side of it?”

“What other side?” said River.

“Sooner or later you'll meet someone and fall in love – what if they don't want a family yet?”

River smiled as she dismissed the remark.

“I wouldn't date anyone who couldn't accept me as a single parent.”

On hearing that remark, Kane smiled too.

“In your mind, this has already happened, hasn't it!” he exclaimed.

“Oh yes,” River replied, “I have it all planned out.”

Kane glanced at April.

“I think you and your new Ma will be staying at her Dad's mansion tonight. Would you like that?”

“Yes!”April said excitedly.

Then Kane glanced back at River.

“You should tell your Dad about your plans – but not yet, not until he's recovering. You need his opinion on this. I think he will probably want to help.”

River thought about her father as her eyes shone with fondness.

“Yes, I'm sure he will want to help me,” she said, then she paused for thought and added, “Strange told me my Dad came to him for an eye transplant a few years back, but he changed his mind because he didn't want the pain bringing back memories. I said today that he could do it while he was still unconscious, he's got very good pain relief and he's going to be on it for at least a month. Then Strange said these eye transplants can be dangerous because sometimes they reject without donor cells and the only way around it is to take cells from the existing eye and mix it with the donor eye before it's implanted. But the process can cause slight damage to the donor cell eye, so he doesn't want to do that to him...”

She paused, then she rubbed her hands together nervously as her palms became damp, “So I said as I'm his daughter, he could have the cells from one of my eyes. I really don't see a problem with having slightly damaged vision in return for my father having two eyes again. It's not something I need to think about, of course I can do this.”

Kane looked at her in surprise.

“This will damage one of your eyes, permanently?”

“It's minor damage. But my father has an empty eye socket, Kane. There is nothing to think about, I'm doing this. Strange told me to wait for Dad to stabilise and give it lots of thought, but my mind is already made up. This is the only way he will get his sight back.”

As he looked into eyes the same shade as Oswald, he felt deeply moved by what she intended to do.

“I think you're very brave and unselfish,” he told her honestly.

She smiled.

“I'm just helping my Dad,” she replied, “We spent so many years apart. Now I want to show him how much he means to me.”

 

It was growing dark outside by the time Molly made her way to the room where Strange had told her she could rest, and on entering the room, she breathed a relieved sigh as she saw her bed was pushed close up to Oswald's.

“That's good,” she said, sounding exhausted, “I can hold his hand. I have to hold his hand, he needs to know I'm there.”

As she went over to Oswald's bed and looked down at him, Kane stood back, giving her space. Molly had refused a sedative to help her sleep, but she was exhausted, she was ready to lie down and sleep for hours, she was bruised and cut and had two wounds stitched. She was still in the clothing she had worn that day, her jeans were stained with mud and stained with her own blood, and she needed rest, her father could see that. But first, she was still thinking of Oswald as she leaned over him, brushed his dark hair from his eyes and placed a kiss on his brow.

“You have to fight,” she whispered, “It's not over yet, you have to get better, Oswald.”

While Strange had been treating her wounds, he had told her that Oswald was slowly improving, a sure sign the healing process was working well. He had machinery around his bed tracking his vital signs, and all were steady. Oswald had an IV in his arm, feeding him the much needed medications that would repair the damage to his body, but he still showed no sign of waking.

While she spoke quietly to Oswald, Kane took off his coat, the stripped off his jacket and shirt and laid the shirt on the end of the other bed, before putting his jacket and coat back on.

“You can borrow my shirt,” he said to his daughter, “I'm going home now, I'll bring you some clean clothes in the morning.”

“And a suit for Oswald,” she reminded him.

“Okay, yes, I'll do that, love,” he said, then he left the room while she got changed, silently thinking, it was far too soon to think about Oswald going home. He wasn't completely stable yet...

As he stood outside the door, his phone rang. He saw it was his wife and answered it.

“Why haven't you called me back? And where's Molly?” she demanded.

“Molly's resting,” he replied, “It's been a long day. She's with Oswald, they've both had a long day but I'm sure she'll call you soon. Those two are falling in love. I really hope it works out for them.”

“Her falling in love again after losing Liam would be a miracle! It sounds like she's met someone very special.”

He managed a smile as he spoke again.

“Oh yes, she has! Oswald is a very special guy. I hope you'll meet him one day, you'll love the fella. Molly adores him.”

“And what are you doing now?” Julia asked.

“I'm off to bed soon,” he relied, “Early night for me. It's just been one of those busy days. I'll call you in the morning, Julia. Love you.”

“Love you too, give Molly my love – and say hi to her new boyfriend for me.”

“I'll do that.” Kane replied.

Then as he ended the call, he blinked as tears ran down his face:

_Molly was in a real mess, stabbed and bruised and full of cuts and aching all over from saving Oswald. He had looked at her and thought how remarkable his daughter was, but at the same time, his heart ached for his girl who had come out of this so bruised and battered. And Poor Oswald was still not stable, he was responding to treatment, but that had been a serious head injury. He didn't deserve to lose his life or to have long term problems because of his ordeal, but nothing was certain yet, nothing at all..._

Kane wiped his eyes and put his phone away and went back into the room. Molly was wearing his shirt now, and she had got into bed. Her bloodied clothing was in a pile on the floor and he picked it up for her.

“I should go now, I'm taking River and April back to the house. You try and get some rest Molly.”

“Dad...” suddenly the events of the day had caught up with her. As she spoke, her voice was hoarse from screaming at Valeska, now she was lying down, she ached all over and every pain was making itself known, and as he set aside the muddy clothing and went over to her bedside, she was tearful as she looked up at him.

“I need to hold his hand.”

Kane gave her bed a careful push, moving it even closer to Oswald's.

“They might have to move it out again if he needs help, if he gets any complications.”

“I know that but I have to hold his hand, I always hold it and he will know he's not alone...” she gave a sob as a tear ran down her face and she looked up at her father, _“I'm so tired, Dad! I just want to close my eyes for five minutes but if I do that, I'll go to sleep and I can't do that, he needs me...”_

“But you must sleep. To be stronger when Oswald wakes,” he reminded her. Kane he took his daughter's hand and shifted it over, so she was able to grip Oswald's motionless hand tightly. Molly turned on her side, still keeping a tight grip she watched over him and the machinery tracked his vital signs as he breathed through the mask over his nose and mouth that fed him oxygen. He looked so fragile, covered in cuts and bruises and lying in that big bed, she just wanted to shift closer to him and promise she was right beside him and would not leave, but this was the closest she could get without disturbing the tubes and lines that ran into his body.

“Go to sleep, Molly. It's over now, you saved his life today. And he's going to come through this.” Kane brushed tears from her eyes then kissed her cheek, “I'll be back in the morning. Just go to sleep next to Oswald. He will know he's not alone. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Molly closed her eyes, as finally, her bruised face relaxed and with a heavy sigh, she took a few more breaths and instantly slipped into a deep, exhausted sleep. Kane looked down at her for a moment, relieved his Molly had come through this with relatively minor injuries – he wished he could say the same for Oswald. Then he gently took hold of the covers and pulled them up to her shoulders as he had when she was a child, and satisfied she was now resting, he left his daughter to recover and walked around to Oswald's bedside, where he pulled up a chair and sat down.

He looked at his bruised face, then at the dressing beneath his hair. His scarred shoulders and upper chest were exposed, showing visible scars from old battles, and he was peppered with fresh bruises, making his pale skin seem even more deathly white than usual. He looked weak, he was barley hanging on.

As Kane bowed his head and placed his hands together, he wondered if there was a god who wanted to hear from a man like him, or who would care about a man like Oswald. They were both underworld bosses. Hardly men to turn to the words of the Lord. But at a time like this, he was recalling the words of his grandmother who had once told him god listens to all who come to him for mercy and healing. _But one gangland boss praying for another?_ He didn't even know if Oswald was religious – he didn't seem to be. Maybe it wouldn't matter. But at this time, to Kane, it seemed appropriate as it was all he could do, and while Molly slept, Kane closed his eyes and spoke quietly:

“ _Almighty and Eternal God, you are the everlasting health of those who believe in you. Hear us for your sick servant Oswald for whom we implore the aid of your tender mercy, that being restored to bodily health, he may give thanks to you in your church. Through Christ our Lord, Amen.”_

Kane opened his eyes again, then he placed a gentle hand on Oswald's arm.

“Keep fighting, Oswald,” he said, “You can get through this. Molly's here. She's right beside you.”

He glanced over at Molly. She was still holding on to Oswald's hand as he slept. Then Kane picked up the clothing and left the room, closing the door quietly. April and River were still in the waiting area.

“Let's go,” he said, and as he joined them, River got up with a worried look on her face.

“How is my Dad?”

“Resting, and so is Molly,” he replied, “We need to get some rest too. You can come back and see your Dad in the morning, we all need some sleep, it's been a hell of a day.”

 

_ Molly was dreaming, recalling those dark days after Liam's shooting:  _

_ She recalled dressing him in his best suit and combing his hair, then holding his hand for a while as she looked at his lifeless body. Even then, it was not until his coffin was closed and she had looked down into that grave surrounded by flowers that she had truly accepted he was gone forever.  _

_ Suddenly she wasn't seeing Liam's grave in the churchyard, but the open grave out the front by the Von Glass house, and when she looked into it, the grave was empty.  _

“ _What was you expecting to see? Oswald's not in there, you saved him.”_

_ As the sun came out and brightened the scene, she smile and turned around, facing Liam. He smiled back at her. _

“ _That's better, Molly. No more crying. Not over me or him. Oswald's going to live.”_

“ _And you know what I want to do?” she asked._

_ Liam laughed. _

“ _I absolutely insist you do it! And when you start filling that mansion with kids, might I suggest Liam's a fine middle name for one of your boys.”_

_ She smiled again, and as he hugged her, he said one last thing: _

“ _I have to go now, Molly. You take care of Oswald. You're right, by the way – he is the one for you. And he needs you, he always will. You're the one who changes his life. Be happy together.”_

 _Then the sunlight that shone down on the meadow took over and bathed the_ _world in brightness._

As she woke up, Molly blinked, looked about the room and remembered where she was, and she turned her head, breathing a relieved sigh to see Oswald was still holding on to her hand. 

Strange was next to his bedside now, and he had taken Oswald off the oxygen and now the machinery was gone, too. He had one line in his arm, the rest of the lines and tubes had been removed.

“How is he?” she asked as she ached all over and blinked away sleep.

“He's out of danger, he's responded very well to treatment and much faster than I expected,” replied Strange, “He needs the fluids for another day, but he's stable. Now, do you think he would be pleased if I gave him a new eye while he was still unconscious? His daughter has offered to donate cells to ensure the transplant succeeds.”

Molly sat up. The stitches in her side felt tight and she leaned back against her pillows, now she had finally let go of Oswald's hand on hearing the good news.

“I'm pretty sure it was only the pain that stopped him from doing it before.”

“If he has the procedure today, he will be quite safe. And by the time he wakes up, the eye will be functional. But I do have one concern – his pain needs to be managed well. I suggest as soon as he's able, you take him home, he will recover much better in familiar surrounding. And if we tell him the pain medication is a drug to speed the healing for his eye, when he says he feels no pain, you can tell him what a brave and resilient man he is. He needs to hear that after what he's been through, you need to build his confidence up, Molly – the ordeal he suffered with Valeska would have done a great deal of psychological harm. He needs to believe in himself again.”

Molly smiled.

“I think that's an excellent idea. And as for the eye, do it now, before he wakes up! He'll thank you later!”

“I shall call his daughter and ask her to come in and donate the cells.”

“And I'm going to stay here and rest,” Molly added.

“Yes Molly, you may stay here until Oswald is well enough to go home,” Hugo replied, giving her a knowing look, “I'm well aware you could leave today – but it's better for Oswald if you stay. He needs reassurance.”

“Thanks for letting me stay,” she said.

“It's no trouble at all,” Strange replied, and then he left the room.

Molly laid back down and took hold of Oswald's hand again.

“Did you hear that?” she said softly as he lay there with his black hair softly shading his closed eyes, “You won't be blind any more, sweetheart. You're going to have two eyes again, Oswald.”

He slept on, not ready to regain consciousness yet, as Molly stayed at his side, resting as her wounds healed and she watched over the man she loved.

 

April had settled into a small bedroom at the back of the mansion that was decorated with old fashioned floral wall paper. She was having breakfast in her room – which was right next door to the room where River was staying. River had gone down stairs and had breakfast in the front room with Kane, then a call had come through from Molly, with good news about Oswald. He was out of danger. It would be a while before he regained consciousness, but he was stable and well enough to have the eye procedure. 

Then Strange had spoken on the phone to River, who had sounded as nervous as she looked on hearing the news so soon, but she agreed she would be over to the clinic within the hour. 

Kane called Victor with the good news, he was clearly relieved to know Oswald was recovering – and only too happy to help. He was at home resting after having a bullet dug out of his leg, so he called another of his men to come to the house and take River over to see Strange, while Kane stayed at the mansion with April, who was no trouble at all. The little girl just wanted to enjoy her first day in this big house that was already starting to feel like home.

 

The procedure took two hours. When Oswald was brought back to the room where Molly was waiting anxiously he was still unconscious and now had a dressing over his right eye, but Strange assured her that he was in no discomfort, his pain was well managed, and it would still be a day or two before he started to wake. Then as he left the room, he spoke outside to River for a few moments, telling her she had done a very generous and unselfish thing, and then he reminded her she would not be coming to work for him for at least six weeks, because her own eye needed time to heal. Then River walked into the room, and as she looked at her father, who was still sleeping, then to Molly, she smiled as she sat at Oswald's bedside.

“It doesn't hurt,” she said, and as Molly looked at her, she saw River's left eye looked bloodshot, “I have drops to put in it every four hours. When it's healed I'll probably need a contact lens to correct the damage to the vision. But it's a small price to pay for my father to have a donor eye treated with compatible DNA. Strange even matched the colour perfectly, too. I can't wait to see the look on Dad's face when he realises he can see again!”

“You did a remarkable thing,” Molly told her as she rested sitting up in her bed, and she reached over a short gap and gently held Oswald's hand. He sensed she was there and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Did you see that?” Molly exclaimed.

“Yes I did! I think Dad can hear us now.”

Molly shifted closer, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Oswald, can you hear me?” 

His lips parted and for a brief moment, there was a flicker of a smile about his face.

“I love you, sweetheart,” she added, and then it happened again, she felt another faint squeeze as she held his hand.

“Dad?” Joy shone in River's gaze, despite the painful appearance of her bloodshot eye as she leaned over him, “Molly's here for you and so am I Dad,” she told him.

He drew in a slow breath. What happened next felt like a miracle. 

“ _I know you are,”_ he whispered, and then he said no more, pulled back into a deep slumber as the medication fed into his body worked to speed up the healing process.

“He spoke to us!” River exclaimed, then she carefully wiped away a tear that stung her painful eye, “He's waking up already!”

Molly smiled as she looked at Oswald. Then she recalled that dream about Liam. Yes, he was definitely right, it was time to think about a future with Oswald. And Liam would be a great middle name for their first son... She had made a decision now, and when Oswald woke up properly, she was going to give him a big surprise...

 

There was a surprise of another kind on the doorstep of the Van Dahl mansion. As the doorbell rang and then a voice called out, “Penguin, are you there, it's Detective Gordon!” Kane guessed right away that the police had suspected a link between the location of the attack and the dead body at the scene, a follower of Velaska – so close to Oswald's family home.

As Jim rang the bell again, Kane opened the door.

“I'm Jim Gordon,” said the cop as he stood there on the doorstep and flashed his badge, “Is Oswald home?”

“I'm afraid he's not here right now, he's gone out with my daughter Molly. The two of them are very close these days. I'm Kane MacQueen, can I help you, Jim - can I call you Jim? I think you must be the same Jim that Oswald speaks so warmly about.”

Jim looked at him in surprise, hoping Oswald hadn't mentioned the past and their friendship and favours in the old days...

“I won't stop,” he said, “I just wanted to mention to Oswald that Jeremiah Velaska – a dangerous Arkham inmate – had been talking about taking over Oswald's turf when he escaped. Last night we found Velaska at the bottom of an open grave. He called us to get him out before the hole caved in.”

Kane looked at him blankly

“What does this have to do with Oswald?”

“Nothing – I hope. But a body was found on the road close to here – a follower of Jeremiah, with his throat cut.”

“No, nothing to do with Oswald. He's been here with me and Molly the whole time. More with Molly than me. It's getting rather passionate, to tell you the truth. I think we'll be hearing wedding bells for those two soon!”

Jim looked at him in surprise.

“That is good news!”

“But keep it to yourself, its not official yet.” 

“And what about you? Would you know anything about the incident that happened yesterday? It was very close to the house.”

“I was indoors all day. I went out the night before, had a few drinks with friends. I was very hung over.”

“What time is Oswald back?” Jim asked.

“I have no idea.”

“When he gets back, tell him to call me,” Jim added.

“I'll be sure to do that, and it was nice to meet you, Jim,” said Kane, then as Jim walked away, Kane closed the door. Then worry clouded his gaze. Jim would be coming back, asking more questions – and he would not be satisfied until he spoke to Oswald, who was in no fit state to talk to the cops right now... they needed an alibi, and it had to be a good one...

 

After a call to Victor, then a call to Strange, an alibi was figured out. But it would be a few days before Oswald would need to hear about it. Two days after he had been brought to the clinic in a serious condition, his head injury was healing, the internal bleeding had stopped and even his fractures were healing fast. 

By the third day, after Molly had woken up, gone through to the bathroom and had a shower, then returned and got dressed, she was quietly concluding that her own injuries were healing well. Her bruises had started to fade, and as she got dressed next to her bed that was close to Oswald's, she had no idea she was being watched. As she finished buttoning her blouse she looked up, and then she stared, and then joy and relief shone in her gaze. Oswald was sitting up in bed, leaning against a stack of pillows, watching her quietly, and as she looked at him, he smiled brightly.

“Good morning, Molly!”

He sounded so weak, but so glad to be alive. She had tears in her eyes as she dashed around to his bedside and gave him a hug. He held her tightly, blinking away tears.

“I think I know why my blind side is covered up,” he said as she let go, and he indicated to a dressing that covered it.

“Did you hear us talking about your eye?” she asked.

Oswald paused for thought. He had been drifting in and out of awareness as he had been fighting to recover, and he definitely recalled that part...

“Something about a transplant. And my daughter donating cells. Is her vision okay?”

“She's got slight damage to it but she can correct it with a contact lens. She said it wasn't a hard choice, she gets a lens and you get your sight back, it was a great deal.”

Pride shone in his gaze.

“My daughter is exceptional!”

“Yes she is! And Strange has offered her a job, so she can train to open up her own practise. And she wants to adopt April. She's very set on the idea.”

“At her young age? I shall have to speak to her about that,” he replied. 

Then as Molly sat on the edge of his bed, he took hold of her hands, remembering his last thoughts when they had been in the car and he had been fighting to stay conscious. He still felt it, a new sense of self worth and pride in himself:  _ He had come far in life, he had achieved much, and this beautiful woman? He deserved her. She also deserved him to be the best he could be, and that meant no more self loathing and insecurity. And he wasn't doing it only for Molly – he owed it to himself, he knew that now, he had owed himself some love and respect for many years. _

“You will see a change in me now,” he promised her, “I am determined to stop criticising myself and putting myself down. I'm the man you fell in love with and I _am_ all the things you see when you look at me. It's time I started believing in myself, and showing my confidence to the world.”

Molly smiled as love shone in her gaze.

“That is the very best I could ever wish for you,” she told him.

Then Oswald laughed.

“I am sure when I'm well enough to go home the memory of all we went through will fade – and my new scars will be a source of excitement for you! I have even more of them now!”

“It's a bit too soon for that,” Molly replied, “Don't talk about what happened, not yet.”

She ran her fingers through his hair, then took a look at his healing scar. It was fading well, and completely closed up now. 

Oswald kept hold of her hand as he looked at her intently.

“Velaska?”

“He didn't take the bullet. The bastard took the coward's way out. He called the cops to come and get him out of that hole. He's back in Arkham.”

“And he didn't mention my kidnap or attempted murder because that would have added more crimes to his list,” Oswald said, “Well, at least he's out of the way again. And you are okay?”

“I'm fine,” she promised.

“And my empire is safe, and all is right with the world once more,” Oswald told her, “I just have to get my strength back now. I have an underworld meeting to attend next week -”

“No, you have to rest for at least a month,” she reminded him, “And you have to take medication every day to help the healing process. Strange was very specific about that. You'll have to postpone the meeting.”

He gave a sigh as he sat back and rested his head against the softness that supported him.

“Then I shall have to follow his instruction. I realise how close I came to dying, Molly.”

“And now you're going to live,” she said, blinking as she held back on weeping tears of joy, because she wanted to say something, and she didn't want to spoil the moment with sobs or blurry eyes as she looked at him and smiled, adding, “You're going to get out of here and come home and I'm going to take care of you until you recover. And then we have plans to make.”

She shifted closer to him as she closed both her hands over his and he looked at her in confusion.

“What plans are these, Molly?”

“The rest of our lives together. Me helping you with your busy meetings with the gang bosses. Maybe even running the Lounge with you too, because you're going to need spare time on your hands to spend proper time being a father once we start filling your mansion with our kids, Oswald. _Will you marry me?_ ”

On hearing those words, his eye filled with tears as beneath the dressing on his right side he felt his new eye sting as it teared up too. He smiled as he pulled her closer and gave his answer.

“Yes I will marry you, Molly MacQueen,” he said, and then he kissed her gently, as they shared a moment of tenderness. Then Oswald let go and rested back against the pillows as he gave a sigh.

“I can only apologise for my lack of strength. I feel exhausted!”

“You sleep now,” Molly told him, and as he closed his eyes, there was a smile on his face. Finally, everything was mending. Molly waited until she was sure Oswald was sleeping deeply, then she carefully let go of his hand and left the room to go and find Strange and give him the good news that Oswald was finally conscious again. 

As he rested and slept and the slow process of healing continued Oswald had felt certain his worries were over – and he was right – almost: But there was still the matter of the police investigation to clear up. Jim Gordon was not going to leave the situation alone until he got answers, and he would be demanding those answers very soon. And whether he was well enough for it or not, Oswald would have to go along with the alibi that had been invented in his absence, an alibi that as yet, he knew nothing about...

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

 

Two days later, Oswald was back home and resting. He was weak and slept a lot but Strange had said it was part of the healing process, and to be expected. Oswald was glad to be home, in his own bed and surrounded by everything familiar that served as instant reassurance when he woke sharply in the night with his heart pounding as he recalled kneeling at that open grave with a gun to the back of his head. Then Molly's arms were around him and she would reassure him and turn on the light, and it would be forgotten until the next night. He didn't know when the nightmares would fade.

The house was quiet considering there was a child under its roof, but River had told April to play quietly and not to disturb Oswald, who needed rest. River had suffered soreness and much watering from the eye that was now blurred, frequent pain and headaches were to be expected for while, too. She knew if she popped a couple of her father's pills it would have been easier to handle, but his pain management was under strict control and she didn't want to mess with that. She made sure he took his pills every day, and as far as Oswald was concerned, their purpose was to heal his eye. Every time he spoke to Strange on the phone, he would ask how he was coping with the pain as he healed and when Oswald said he felt no pain, Hugo always said the same thing: That Oswald was remarkably strong and resilient to be recovering so well. Those words had done their magic – now Oswald was feeling proud of the fact that he was getting over his ordeal so quickly and so well. It was another reason to feel proud of himself, and as his confidence grew, he felt even better about himself.

When Strange told him he could take the dressing off his eye, Oswald was excited. The Professor wasn't even there, he had been on the phone and said the eye was healed well enough now, but added that he still needed to take the medication for the rest of the month.

It was Molly who removed the dressing from his eye. It was the middle of the afternoon and the skies were heavy with dark rain clouds. The lamp had been on in the bedroom and she turned it off so he didn't feel pain at sudden exposure to brightness.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

Oswald nodded. Then he waited, closing his eyes as she carefully took the dressing off his right side, as she removed it he heard her say he could open his eyes again, but for a moment they stayed shut as he reached for her hand, grasping it tightly.

“This is a moment I never thought would happen!” he said excitedly, “I never thought I'd get my sight back!”

“So open your eyes!” Molly exclaimed.

Oswald took a deep breath and opened his eyes, he blinked several times and then as he saw with both eyes for the first time in many years, he became tearful.

“Oh this is amazing... You look even more beautiful Molly!” It was all he could think to say as he hugged her tightly.

Molly grabbed a small mirror and sat back, holding it up in front of him. Oswald stared into it, seeing his new eye for the first time, it was the same shade as his other one. It didn't look any different to the other one. It looked as if he had never lost an eye... he wiped tears from his face and started to smile.

“I look very good!”

“Yes, you do,” Molly agreed.

Oswald was still looking into the mirror. A sudden thought came to him : _You can do better than that. Say it before Molly does._ So he did.

“I could even say I look rather... _handsome_ again?”

“Oh yes, you do, Oswald!” she agreed, and as tears of joy filled her gaze he hugged her again, as he realised that while giving himself such praise had taken courage, it didn't even sound ridiculous any more, yes, he was handsome:

_Molly was honest, when she said he was attractive, it came from her heart. He had no right to call the woman he loved a liar by denying it. His mother had always told him he was handsome. She had been telling the truth too. When had his loneliness and lack of love and warmth in his life led to such self hatred?_

There was nothing to despise, he saw that even clearer as Molly sat close beside him and pressed her cheek against his, and then she used the camera on her phone to take a picture of them together. As he looked into the camera, he saw two people sharing a photo together. And they were very much in love, and also made a very attractive couple...

After she took the picture she smiled down at it and then looked into his eyes, her thoughts now on the future.

“We need to keep that one, show it to our kids one day. Their brave Daddy, after he got his new eye.”

Oswald felt a wave of emotion crash through his heart at the thought of raising a family with Molly. Love had been mostly elusive until now, and before her, it had always ended badly. But not this time. Finally, he had found the one who would love him forever and care about his happiness as much as she cared for her own. Then his thoughts turned to his daughter.

“Molly, would you go to the study and fetch something for me? The letter folded inside the broken picture frame on the top shelf. I need to show it to River.”

She replied with a kiss and left the room. While she was gone, Oswald leaned back against his pillows and got comfortable as he thought of his daughter and all he needed to discuss. He briefly lifted the mirror and looked at his reflection again, smiling as he ran his fingers through his hair, tidying long dark spikes. He actually liked what he saw. Maybe it had taken all he had been through to make him realise the truth, Molly had definitely made a difference, but now he believed it completely. He felt proud of himself and proud of his reflection. _And his eyes looked great._ For that, he had his daughter to thank, and she was just about to realise how grateful he was...

 

After Molly brought the letter to him, she left the room and then found River downstairs on the phone. April was watching TV, oblivious to River's anxious tone.

“Well I don't know where we will be living yet, but I have a job lined up and...” she paused, “No, I'm not her legal parent yet, that's happening as soon as I can make arrangements... I'm just trying to get her into a school.”

She paused, listened again and gave a heavy sigh.

“Okay, I'll try and speed that up. As soon as I have all the official paperwork, I want her in a school. Can't you put her name on the list or something?”

She listened again.

“Fine! I'll call back another time!” she snapped, ending the call as frustration burned in her gaze as her healing eye watered and she wiped it with a brush of her fingertip.

“Problem?” asked Molly.

“I can't get April into a school. They need an address, legal documents to say she's mine... I don't even have my new job yet!”

Molly said nothing in reply to all she had said. She and Oswald had already discussed it.

“Your Dad wants to see you, River,” she told her.

As River left the room, Molly thought about all that Oswald had told her, and she couldn't help smiling as she wondered what River's reaction would be - especially when she found out her Dad had thought up a rather special nickname name for her...

 

Oswald was resting in bed, comfortable and warm with the covers up to his chest as he stretched out his damaged leg and realised even that wasn't hurting these days – which was unusual. He didn't doubt it would soon get painful again once he got back on his feet, but for now, he was feeling just fine and as River entered the bedroom, he smiled as his eyes shone with love.

“Thank you for giving me my sight back,” he said, and as she sat on the edge of his bed, they hugged tightly. As she drew back he looked at her damaged eye, it wasn't bloodshot now but it kept watering. He knew she got headaches too and it would be a while before she recovered from the cell donation process.

“I really didn't have to think about it,” River replied, “This is what I wanted – my Dad to have two eyes again. And you look great!”

Oswald took hold of her hand as he looked into her eyes.

“I am so very, very happy,” he told her, “I owe my life to Molly and to you. Strange told me that surgery you performed while I was held prisoner saved my life. And now you've given me my sight back... I want you to read this.”

He let go of her hand and reached for an old, folded letter. He unfolded it and handed it to her.

“When your mother told me she was having a termination I wrote her a letter begging her not to do it. Her response is on the other side of the paper. She handed it to me like a casual note and said no more about it. She broke my heart that day.”

River began to read the letter: _'My dearest Fish, I am begging you not to do this...'_

Oswald sat in silence and as she read the letter, then as she saw her mother's cold response, she blinked away tears and wiped her healing eye again. She folded the letter and placed it next to the bed and thought about all she had read as sadness shaded her gaze.

“My mother must have been a very cold person.”

“All Fish cared about was power,” Oswald replied, “And she had no time for a family – especially not to make one with her umbrella boy.”

Then River smiled.

“But she loved you really, deep down inside she _did_ love you, I'm proof of that – she didn't have the termination because she said she loved my father too much to do it. I guess that's better than nothing, Dad.”

The pain of old heartbreaks were starting to heal.

“It certainly is,” he agreed. Then he paused for thought, deciding it was time to raise the matter of her plans for the future.

“I understand you want to adopt April.”

“Yes I do.”

“River, you're eighteen years old! You've got plans for a career and you're so young!”

“And I'll cope, Dad.”

“You'll need a place to live, and then you'll need to legally adopt her, which could be difficult at your young age. It's going to be a couple more years before you can set up your private practise and then you'll have to find time for April as well as work and being an underworld doctor can mean working crazy hours.”

“I know that, but I really want to do this.”

Oswald looked intently at her.

“I can't possibly allow you to do that. Your life has been hard these past few years and you will struggle and that's no life for a child either.”

“Please have faith in me,” she said, “I can do this Dad!”

Oswald's eyes sparkled as he started to smile.

“Of course I have faith in you! That's why you're going to live here with April, after all, it is your family home. And I'm going to use my influence to cut through the red tape and make sure that adoption goes through smoothly. And when you go to work, we will help you with April, I'm getting married to Molly as soon as I'm recovered. We are going to be a proper family, and we will give you all the support you need to be a parent and to follow your dreams.”

Tears filled her eyes.

“Oh Dad, thank you!”

As she hugged him, joy shone in his gaze, and as he let go of her he added, “There's no need to thank me. I spent years mourning your loss, from the moment I found out about the pregnancy I loved you! To know the truth and have you here, back home where we can make up for all those lost years is a dream come true! I love you _so_ much, Baby Fish!”

She laughed.

“ _Baby Fish?”_

“If I'd been able to be around when you were younger I would have called you that. So I'm doing it now instead. You're my Baby Fish.”

She smiled as she looked at her father.

“Okay, Dad, but don't call me that in front of your underworld friends. Or in a couple of years I'll be known as Doc Baby Fish!”

“Is your eye hurting?” he asked as she blinked several times.

“Not so much but my vision is blurred. I'll need a contact lens for that. I'm not looking forward to sticking a lens in my eyeball every day but as I said, it's a very small price to pay for you getting your sight back.”

She got up from the bed and went over to the dressing table, where his glass eye sat in its container.

“I'm so glad you won't be needing this any more!”

“So am I!” said Oswald.

Then she found something else and held it up.

“What's this?”

“That's my spare monocle. The other one got cracked. But I won't be needing it any more now I have my new eye.”

River had turned to face the mirror.

“Oh wow!” she said, “That is much better! This lens is perfect, I can see very clearly! Can I keep it, Dad?”

As she turned around Oswald looked at her in surprise. River was wearing his monocle.

“Of course you can keep it,” he told her fondly, “And it rather suits you, Baby Fish!”

As she smiled back at him, the view through the lens was clear as the pain in her eye stopped. River was used to the monocle already, and it was growing on her, as was her liking for her new nickname. _Doc Baby Fish_ sounded like a title that could one day be a very cool underworld name...

 

As Victor entered the house, Molly had just left the front room, and she walked up to him with a big smile on her face as she shared the good news.

“Oswald's thrilled with his new eye!”

“That's good to know,” he replied, smiling back at her, then looking up the stairway, “Can I go up and see him, is he well enough for visitors?”

“Of course you can,” Molly replied, “He's well enough for company but he has to rest. As long as he stays in bed for the next three weeks he'll be fine.”

“I'll go up and see him now,” Victor said.

“You do that, he'll be so pleased to see you, he gets bored stuck in bed all day,” Molly told him.

Victor paused, lowering his voice.

“About that thing you asked about the other day... Is your Dad home?”

“No he went to see Ryan and the guys, he should be back soon.”

“Good,” Victor replied, “Because I need to speak to him about arrangements. And no one can know about this, Molly – not even his daughter. At the end of the day, it's for Penguin, and not just your peace of mind – mine too. I'll never forget seeing him like that, half dead next to that hole in the ground. I've seen him get smashed up a few times over the years but...” Victor shook his head, “Not like that. And this is why we have to make sure that bastard never gets the chance to do it to him again.”

“I couldn't agree more,” Molly replied.

“I'll go up and see him now,” Victor said, then he turned away and went up the stairs. Molly returned to the front room, where April was listening as River excitedly told her they would now be living here permanently. As Molly walked in River turned her head, and the thought instantly struck Molly that her father's monocle suited her.

“Dad said we can move in! And he's going to help me adopt April!”

Molly smiled.

“I know, it's good news, _Baby Fish!_ ”

River laughed.

“You know about that too?”

“Oswald tells me everything,” she replied, and as she thought about the one thing he didn't know she felt slightly guilty, but both Victor and her father had agreed that her idea to arrange a hit on Valeska was the only way to ensure Oswald would never be targeted again. It was also for the future generation, too – ensuring their kids would also be safe. Like her father had said when she had first mentioned the idea, it was for the best, because Oswald was family now, and the MacQueens always protected family...

 

As Victor walked into the bedroom, he stared at his boss. He had been so used to seeing him half blind, and now he had two perfect eyes again.

“Victor!” Oswald said warmly, “It's so good to see you!”

“It's good to see you too – you're looking well, thankfully.”

Victor stood next to the bed as Oswald looked up at him.

“You can sit down, Victor.”

“No, I'm okay, I just wanted to say hi and see how you were doing.”

“I am much better! Hugo said I'm making such a remarkable recovery, he even said he's never seen anyone so resilient to pain before. Apparently I'm much tougher than I realise.”

“Yes you are, Penguin,” Victor agreed, then he swallowed down a lump in his throat as he thought about the near dead mess he had carried to the car after Molly had dealt with Velaska. He had actually thought Penguin was going to die, he had taken one look at him and thought there was no way he could come back from this. Strange had been a last resort, but that desperate move had paid off. Penguin was looking well, and it was clear it wouldn't be long before he was out of that bed and back to running the underworld again. Then Oswald said something unexpected.

“Thank you, Victor. You helped to save my life. I know it's what I pay you for, but without Molly and my daughter and you and Kane, I wouldn't be here now. Give me a hug.”

Victor leaned over him, giving him a quick hug, then he let go and briefly looked away as he blinked, not wanting his boss to see a hint of tears in his eyes. _It had been a fucking close call. He would never forget that day, or that drive with Penguin on the back seat and on the point of fading out as Molly tried to keep him awake..._

“I was very concerned about you,” Victor admitted, “And it's great to see you looking so well again. I'd better go now, I'll leave you to rest.”

“Victor?”

He had just reached the door as he glanced back.

“Molly and I are getting married. Then we are staring a family. And we would like you to move in and work as our protector.”

That offer brought a smile to Victor's face.

“I'd like that, boss.”

“I'm not just your boss, you're my friend,” Oswald reminded him, “And Molly grew up with an Uncle Ryan - her father's bodyguard. My children will grow up with an Uncle Victor.”

On hearing those words, Victor chuckled.

“You just want me to do the school run every day!”

Oswald laughed too.

“That could be a part of the new job description!”

“Get some rest, Penguin,” Victor said warmly, “I'll see you soon.”

As Victor left the room, Oswald settled back against soft pillows, and then he felt tiredness sweep over him. He had come to accept that a lot of sleep was part of recovery, and so he let it happen, siding into a deep and restful sleep for the second time that afternoon.

 

While Oswald was sleeping, Molly left April and River in the front room and joined Victor in the hallway just as her father returned. Kane closed the front door and took off his coat, then glanced at them both and kept his voice low as he indicated to the direction of the study.

“I think we should have a quiet chat about Velaska,” he said, and the three of them walked off together, saying no more until they were in the study and the door was locked. They sat by the window, Molly and her father on the sofa while Victor leaned against Oswald's desk and looked at them.

“We're doing this?”

“We are,” Kane agreed.

“And the sooner the better,” Molly added.

“No,” Kane told his daughter, “You know how it works, Molly. Nothing will happen for a long time. We have to put at least two years between what's happened and the hit. We can't have any obvious ties to Oswald or to us when Velaska dies.”

“So what's the plan?” Molly asked.

Then Victor spoke up.

“I'll arrange for Velaska to find himself a new best friend in Arkham.”

“And the guy will be on my payroll,” Kane added, “Which means if Velaska tries to break out again, he can see to it those plans go wrong. Give it a couple of years and Velaska's new mate turns on him and guts him like a fish. Happens all the time in places like Arkham, no one will know it's been set up.”

“And we never have to worry about Penguin going through that kind of ordeal again,” Victor added.

Molly nodded.

“I'm happy with that. As long as I know Oswald is safe, I can sleep at night.”

“I totally agree,” Victor replied.

Kane smiled as he settled back on the comfortable sofa.

“Now that's out of the way, I should go up there and see my future son in law. I bet he's ever so pleased with his new eye!”

“He is,” Molly replied, “He's overjoyed! It's wonderful to see him looking so well again.”

As Kane looked at Molly, all the sadness he used to feel for his daughter who was once so lost in mourning was gone. He had never seen Molly so happy before. Clearly, her and Oswald were meant to be.

“And it's wonderful to see you so happy, Molly,” he said to her, “I think you're both good for each other – and Oswald seems a bit different these days, too. More happier with himself.”

“He's definitely more confident, I noticed that when I saw him just now,” Victor added.

Then Kane rose from his seat and so did Molly.

“I'm off to see my son in law,” he said, and as he led the way, they left the study and Kane was about to head for the stairs when there was a heavy pounding on the front door. The three of them froze, looking to the door. The heavy knocking sounded again.

“Maybe I should check it out,” said Victor.

Then he felt a tug on his right holster. He reached down and found it empty.

“ _Again?”_ he exclaimed.

Molly had the gun in her hand as she cautiously approached the door, pausing to look out through a small gap in the net that hung at the window. Then she stepped back and handed Victor his gun.

“It's that fuckin' cop again!” Molly exclaimed.

“I'll wake Oswald and remind him what to say,” said Kane, and he hurried off towards the stairway.

“And I'll go and sit with Baby Fish and her kid,” added Victor as he holstered his weapon.

Molly looked at him in surprise.

“You know about his name for her too?”

Victor laughed.

“Yeah, Penguin told me on the phone yesterday. I think it's sort of cute.”

“It is!” she agreed, then Victor hurried off down the hallway and Jim knocked loudly again, then he rang the bell and yelled _Penguin_.

 

Jim was about to knock again when the door opened.

“What do you think you're doing?” Molly demanded, “You can't go banging the door down like that, think of Oswald!”

“I'm here to see Oswald,” he said, and showed his ID, “Jim Gordon, GCPD. Is he home? I need to speak to him.”

“I'm Molly MacQueen,” she replied, “Soon to be Mrs Cobblepot. And you'll only see my fiancé if he's well enough to feel up to speaking with you!”

She opened the door wider and stepped back, and Jim went inside.

“I really don't see why the police want to talk to him,” she added.

“I just need to ask him a few questions, I need to clear something up.”

“Follow me,” Molly said, and led him up the stairway.

Jim followed her down the upper hallway, then they stopped at the door of the master bedroom.

“Wait there!” she said sharply, and then she went inside and closed the door behind her. Jim stood there, waiting for her return. Then Molly came out of the room again, pulling the door quietly shut as she lowered her voice.

“What ever this is about, you'd better be gentle with him, he's been through enough, we all have!” she said, and as Jim wondered what she meant, she opened the door and led him inside.

“I'm sorry sweetheart,” she said tenderly as she leaned over Oswald, “But Jim says he has to talk to you... do you need to sit up?”

“Yes please, Molly,” Oswald replied, sounding very weak. He put his arms around Molly's neck and she carefully lifted him, then arranged the pillows behind him so he could lean against them, and finally, as he smiled up at her, she folded the covers down to his hips. Then she stepped back and looked hard at Jim.

“As you can see, Oswald is very weak. We almost lost him, Jim. He had an eye transplant almost two weeks ago and had some very serious complications. But thankfully he's recovering now. He's not been home long.”

Jim stepped closer to the bed, staring at Oswald: clearly, she was telling the truth. Oswald used to be blind in one eye and now he was not. There was something else about him too, but Jim couldn't quite figure out what it was that was different...

“Hello, old friend,” Oswald said fondly, “What can I do for you?”

Jim was still staring at the sight of Oswald, resting comfortably with his shirt off and his scars on show, and then he realised what was different, apart from his eye: _It was Oswald. He was resting on that bed half naked like he had gained a huge dose of confidence. Clearly this relationship with Molly was doing his fragile confidence a lot of good..._

“I came here to ask you about an incident that happened a few days back close to here...How long were you in the hospital?”

“I was treated by Hugo Strange, that was two weeks back. I had complications during the surgery, I came very close to death.”

Jim had noticed traces of fading bruises on his upper body. He looked at Molly. She was wearing make up and he saw no bruises on her as he thought about the theory that Valeska had sent his men to abduct Oswald, who clearly did have bruises...

“Have you been in a fight?” he asked, “You're covered in bruises.”

“It was a side effect of a drug Strange had to give me when I had the complications,” he replied as annoyance crept into his voice,”So if fighting for my life counts in this, yes I _have_ been in a fight, Jim!”

“I'm sorry, Oswald,” Jim said, “I'll leave now, you clearly need some rest. And by the way, your eye looks great.”

Oswald smiled as pride shone in his perfect gaze.

“Thank you.”

“And if I ask Strange about this, he will be able to confirm everything you just told me?”

“Of course he can. He saved my life.”

Then Molly spoke up.

“Who's Velaska?” she asked.

“A dangerous man who escaped from Arkham recently. But you don't need to worry about him, Miss MacQueen – he's back in Arkham and securely locked away,” he glanced at Oswald, “And the incident I was investigating happened while you were clearly elsewhere. I won't bother you again about this, Oswald. I hope you're recovered soon... you stay with him, Molly. I'll see myself out.”

Jim left the room and closed the door. They listened as he made his way down the stairs, then Molly stood by the window, watching as he left by the front door, got into his car and drove away.

“He's gone!” she exclaimed, and Oswald sat up and held his arms out to her.

As Molly joined him and they embraced, he laughed.

“I think we can safely say Jim Gordon is dealt with!” Molly said.

Oswald smiled as he looked into her eyes.

“I can tell you're used to lying to the police, my dear.”

“What do you expect? I'm a MacQueen!”

“Soon to be a Cobblepot,” he reminded her, and then he pulled her close and they shared a kiss.

Oswald pulled her down with him on to the softness of the pillows, and as his kisses grew more passionate, Molly drew back.

“Are you sure?” she asked, looking down at Oswald as he lay there on his back, naked beneath covers down to his hips as his eyes darkened with desire.

“I'm very sure, I'm definitely well enough,” he whispered, and then he reached down, pushing the sheets away from his solid erection.

“I'll lock the door,” Molly said, and she got up, slid the bolt across and then began to strip off her clothing as she made her way impatiently back to bed. Oswald lay there watching, the covers off his body as he smiled at the sight of her naked as she rejoined him on the bed.

“I love you so much, Molly!” he said, then he took her in his arms and used a little of his regained strength, rolling on top as she welcomed him between warm, parted thighs.

It was gentle lovemaking, as he stayed aware of his damaged leg and the fact that he had done little but rest since the start of his recovery. But her legs were wrapped around his waist and as she thrust to meet with his every movement, being inside her again felt like all the confirmation he needed that he was going to be okay, that everything was going to be okay. She ran her hands over his body, admiring every part of him, every scar and imperfection that marked his skin like a map of his rise to power.

“ _Oh Molly...”_ he gasped, _“Slow down...”_

For a moment no sound could be heard but kisses given gently and the quickness of their breath, then Oswald thrust harder, making her give a soft moan.

“ _Do you want my babies, Molly?”_

“ _Yes, I want all your babies, Oswald!”_

She moved against him, impatient for more as he thrust hard and fast, only pausing to reposition his damaged leg as he ached for orgasm.

“ _Want to touch my new scars?”_ he whispered closely to her ear, _“You have my permission, Molly... enjoy my smashed up body for what it is...”_

As she kissed over traces of recent cuts and bruises, he laughed softly as her excitement grew and her hand slipped between her legs. He was aching to come now, but held held back, making love with careful movements, not daring to go over the edge yet.

“ _That's right, you touch yourself...”_ he thrust again, _“Think about my broken bones and my war wound... my eye surgery...all the things I've been through... I'm your hero, Molly, I'm fucking indestructible... kiss it...”_ he turned his head, pushing back his hair to expose the healed scar on the side of his head.

“ _Oswald no... I can't... it's too soon...”_

“ _Kiss it better, Molly...you know you want to!”_ he said breathlessly, and it sounded like a dare.

She placed a tender kiss in his hair, then another one, then as her fingers moved harder between her legs, her mouth was right next to his ear as she came with a soft moan and Oswald stopped holding back as he thrust hard into her body and throbbed warm and fast.

“ _Oh... Yes!”_ he gasped, and as he closed his eyes, there was a victorious smile on his face. The thought was still there as she held him and he felt every last beautiful throb of climax, he had just made her come so hard, he had done that, he had lit her fire with his words and talked her into orgasm, banishing the bad memories of all he had been through, now they were just new scars on his body to turn her on...

As they separated and lay side by side, Oswald reached for his cigarettes and then changed his mind.

“No smoking for me. It's time to give it up. I'm thinking about our kids.”

Molly's face was still flushed from orgasm. She ran her fingers through his hair, then swept up his spikes, covering the healed scar.

“I can't believe you did that! Your head wound? You are _so_ fucking hardcore, Oswald!”

He laughed as he pulled her closer.

“You were in the perfect position to admire that scar at the right moment,” he told her, “I love making you come!”

They lay together for a while, just resting and recovering. Then Kane tapped on the closed door.

“Molly? Oswald?”

“Not right now, Dad, we're having a cuddle!” Molly called back.

“That's nice to hear,” Kane replied, “I take it all went well with Jim?”

“Yes, Kane, he's not a problem any more,” Oswald replied.

“Great news. I shall leave you both to … cuddle, then!” Kane called back, and then he walked back down the hallway and headed for the stairs.

Molly was on her side, looking into Oswald's eyes, and then she started to smile.

“This will take some getting used to. Last time I was in this bed I was with a man who had one eye. Now he has two!”

Oswald laughed.

“And he's very tired,” he confessed, “And needs more rest.”

“I know you do, love,” she said softly, but just as she was ready to close her eyes and rest with him, Oswald spoke up again.

“I remember when we first met we talked about losing someone we loved, I told you about Mother and you told me about Liam... I've just realised, you never showed me a picture of him. I would like to know more about him.”

Molly looked to her phone and hesitated. She had a few favourite pictures on there, but that would have to wait. She would show him, but not now, not at this moment...

“I'll show you later, you go to sleep and rest,” she replied, then she kissed him again and shifted closer, laying her head on his chest as she closed her eyes.

Oswald was suddenly hit but a flicker of nervousness. He was now wondering why she had been reluctant to show him Liam's picture:

_Was he a handsome man? Better looking, better in every way?_

Suddenly he felt old insecurities coming back and he tried to shut them out. But reminding himself that this was a new start didn't help when he felt so much doubt crowding in. He wanted to be more confident, he was sure he was getting there... but now he was worried, as he wondered exactly why Molly was reluctant to share a picture of her dead love, who he feared had been quite possibly far more desirable than he could ever hope to be...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

 

Oswald said no more about the subject of Liam, even though doubts still nagged at the back of his mind. But thankfully, he had plenty to distract him from his worries - he recovered well, he got back into his usual routine of handling his many business dealings. By the time Kane was ready to leave Gotham and return to Ireland, Oswald was fully recovered – even the nightmares had stopped.

He went with Molly to the airport to say goodbye, and just before Kane boarded his plane, after hugging his daughter and telling her to be happy, he turned to Oswald and looked fondly at him.

“I didn't think I'd be going home and leaving my daughter behind,” he said, “But I know she's going to have a great life with you. I'll see you in the Spring for the wedding, and I'll bring Julia. I already think of you as a son, Oswald. Business made us partners, life made us friends and now love makes us family.”

“It certainly does,” Oswald agreed.

Kane gave him a tight hug and then stepped back.

“Look after each other,” he added, then he walked off to catch his flight.

Oswald and Molly left the airport hand in hand, got into their car and returned home. Molly was excited and talking about the future. Oswald wanted to be excited too, but that thought was still nagging at the back of his mind:

_Why had she avoided the subject of Liam?_

Ever since he had first mentioned it, she had laid the matter to rest with silence, and never raised the subject again. He was still wondering why...

 

Later that night, while Molly was in the bathroom, as he undressed before getting into bed, Oswald stood before the mirror, looking intently at his reflection: _Did Liam have no scars? Was Liam taller than him? Better looking? Stronger?_ There had to be a reason why she was hiding his pictures. In some ways, it seemed crazy to feel insecure over a man who had been dead for more than two years. But he still felt those self doubts. It had been a hard struggle to recover from his ordeal at the hands of Velaska, weeks of rest had left his damaged leg aching and now he had stopped the medication, the old pains were back when he walked, a constant reminder of his imperfection. It helped to remember that Molly loved his scars and his damage and saw it all as proof of his strength and courage, but he was still trying to be the new, confident Oswald he wanted to be. And he knew it wouldn't happen as long as he worried about how he measured up to her dead boyfriend...

After he got in bed and Molly joined him, he sat there still thinking about those unanswered questions.

“Is something wrong, sweetheart?” she asked, turning on her side and looking at him as worry reflected in her eyes.

Oswald gave a sigh.

“I have to say it, Molly – ever since you didn't show me Liam's picture I've been worried.”

“What ever for?”

Oswald hesitated.

“I can't help but wonder if he was so much better than me, more attractive, perhaps?”

Molly shifted closer to him and gave a sigh, now understanding why Oswald had been having some quiet moments lately.

“Oh no, Oswald! It's not what you think! I'll show you some pictures in a minute. Let me tell you about him first: His name was Liam Sweeney. He was two years younger than me and more _gangsta_ than gangster like you. He wasn't a refined gentleman, actually he was a bit of a thug! He grew up on the rough side of town and he used to say, one day he was going to work for Kane MacQueen. And then he did, and he became one of his best men. And that was how I met him.”

She reached for her phone and accessed an album entitled _Liam,_ then handed the phone to Oswald.

As he looked through the pictures, he saw a young man with a confident smile - perhaps he was a little over confident - youth and too much confidence did _not_ go safely together in the underworld, clearly he had made one wrong move to have caught that fatal bullet... In one picture caught as a screen shot from an old social media page, he stood with some other guys, all were in casual clothing, and all had their faces part concealed as he brandished a gun. Beneath the picture he had written, _#MacQueengang #brothersinblood #brothers4life._ Another picture was taken in a comfortable front room, Liam had his arm around Molly and smiled for the camera with a beer in his hand. Another photo showed him standing by stream with rolling fields in the distance as looked into the lens, by the love that shone in his gaze, clearly Molly had taken that picture. In another, there was a rare picture of Liam in a suit, without a tie and the top buttons of his shirt open, it had been taken at a party at an expensive looking bar, and he was proudly posing beside Kane MacQueen. There were other pictures, Liam and Molly, Liam with Ryan and a few of the other guys in a pub, and then he handed the phone back to Molly.

Now Oswald was smiling. He completely understood why she had been reluctant to show him pictures of Liam :

Molly was right, there were differences between them. _But not many..._ Liam was younger, his nose wasn't pointed, and he had blonde hair and a preference for casual clothing instead of expensive suits, and he had a single diamond stud in his ear. Liam had the same shade of eye colour as Oswald. He even resembled him slightly. As he had looked at those pictures, Oswald had instantly thought, _this guy could have been my cousin..._ Liam also had a deep knife scar on his right cheek, no doubt a legacy from a fight, and going by the way he posed for the camera, he had worn it with pride...

“I think I can confidently say Liam was a very handsome man,” Oswald said as he looked at Molly and pride shone in his gaze, “In fact, we were rather similar in appearance!”

Molly nodded, then she giggled.

“That's why I didn't want to show you right away - you were very different in a lot of ways, but yes, Oswald, _both_ of you are what I consider to be handsome men. You're both my type, too!”

Oswald laughed. Seeing those pictures of Liam had completely wiped away his doubts. If Liam was good enough for her, so was he... Oswald felt proud of himself as he remembered all the reasons he ought to feel confident. If he ever needed reminding again, all he had to do was look at a picture of Liam, a young man who was so like him, who had been gone too soon, but he was sure his memory would always live on, and certainly, teach him a thing or two about believing in himself. As he took Molly in his arms and made love to her, he made the decision that it was time to embrace his new inner strength and not look back. The world was soon to meet the new improved Oswald Cobblepot, a confident man, the man he knew he deserved to be.

 

A week later, Oswald was getting ready to take Molly out for the evening to the Iceberg Lounge. She was getting changed in the bathroom because she said she wanted to surprise him, and as he got dressed in front of the mirror in the bedroom, he fastened gold umbrella cufflinks, then he reached for his tie and changed his mind, smiling as he decided to take some inspiration from Liam. He left off the tie and opened up the top buttons on his shirt, exposing an old knife scar close to his throat. Then he put on his jacket and stepped back, pausing to tease up his spiked hair. He had gone for a shorter cut at the sides and that scar was visible on the side of his head: _Fuck it, he thought, wear it with pride..._ Then as he turned from the mirror, Molly came out of the bathroom.

“What do you think?” she asked.

She was wearing a dress that clung to her curves, it was all lace and silk and as he looked at her, he was sure she got more beautiful with every passing day.

“You look amazing!” he said.

“So do you!” Molly exclaimed, taking in the sight of Oswald in his suit and his leg brace and no tie, his shirt partly open and his hair styled to perfection. He had even exposed his new scar.

As she put her arms around him, her eyes shone with admiration.

“You look so good I could drag you off to bed right now!”

He kissed her softly.

“Later, my dear, these things are worth waiting for,” he promised, giving her a wink.

 

A short while later, they arrived at the Iceberg Lounge and all heads turned as Penguin walked in with his fiancée. Then Molly stood back and watched as several underworld associates came up to him, some shook his hand, others hugged him, in between the congratulations on his engagement, there was much warmth and affection, as people said they were so glad to see he was recovered now.

The story had got around that Oswald's absence had been due to the rough time he had with his eye transplant. The truth of the matter, everything involving Velaska, had been kept quiet. Oswald had said to Molly at the time that telling Jim the cover story about his eye would soon spread further than the GCPD, and it had – all the way back to the underworld. After being told how good it was to have him back, the compliments started, first about his new eye, then about how great he looked. And Oswald smiled and thanked them for their kind words, and didn't once feel awkward about such praise. He knew it was deserved.

Later when Ed walked in with Lee, his head had turned and his jaw had dropped as he looked over at Oswald.

“Oh wow, he looks _so_ good!” he said, and he stared in surprise until Lee placed a gentle hand on his cheek and turned his head back towards her as amusement sparkled in her eyes.

“I'm over here, Ed!”

“But look at Oswald... he looks so damned good!”

Lee laughed.

“That's what happiness does for you,” she replied.

When Oswald came over with Molly, Ed was still looking surprised as he took in the sight of him. There was so much more to him than just the new eye, Oswald was giving off an air of confidence he had never seen before.

“You're looking so good these days!” he exclaimed.

Oswald smiled.

“Thank you, Ed.”

“And your eye looks great. I heard you had some complications with it, are you okay now?”

“Yes, I'm fine, I'm fully recovered now,” he replied.

Then as he spoke to Ed, he felt a squeeze on his ass. He turned his head as Molly gave him a smile, then he looked back to Ed.

“I'm sorry I have to go – I just remembered I left something in the office.”

He grabbed Molly by the hand, leading her away from the bar, towards the door that led to the stairway.

“Grabbing my ass in the club, Molly?” he said playfully as he opened the door and pulled her inside, “That's no way to treat a powerful man like me!”

“Oh yes, it is!” she replied, and as the door closed, he pulled her closer, pinning her to the wall as they shared a passionate kiss.

As Oswald reached out and locked the door, she laughed softly as he pushed up her skirt and the tugged on his zip. He took her hard and fast up against the wall, as the sound of their lovemaking carried up the stairway. He covered her mouth with a passionate kiss, then moved harder against her as she ran her fingers through his hair. As she looked into his eyes, he thrust harder.

“ _I'm pretty good at this, for a man with such a damaged body!”_ he gasped.

“ _Yes you are, Oswald!”_

She was moving harder against him, then she pressed her face into his hair as he turned his head, putting that exposed scar in her line of vision as she ground against him. She came with a low moan and he clung to her, thrusting again, coming as he felt her orgasm set off his own. Then they were breathless together, as Oswald pressed his face against her shoulder as he breathed hot and hard and she felt it through the fabric of her dress.

They separated and tidied their clothing, exchanged a playful glance as he unlocked the door, and then they rejoined the crowd as he took her by the hand, leading her across the club and back towards the bar. He had just remembered their first awkward encounter in this place, and as he compared then to now, Oswald felt glowing pride in his own achievement at how far he had come since then. The old days were gone, this was the new Oswald, passionate, attractive and confident – and there would be no going back this time, he was finally happy.

 

A few days later, on a day clouded by winter skies that covered Gotham in a shade of rainy grey, Oswald stood at his mother's grave and laid some lilies as his daughter stood at his side. He looked at the grave stone as he spoke aloud:

“I am getting married in the Spring, you would have liked Molly, she makes me very happy, Mother. And this young lady beside me is River – my daughter by Fish Mooney. I didn't know about her until I went through that terrible ordeal with Velaska. And now she's a part of my life. So something good came out of something very bad.”

“And I'm adopting a child called April,” added River, “And I wish I could have known you, Grandma.”

Oswald looked fondly at his daughter.

“I'm sure she would have loved you very much....” then he paused, looking down at a red rose he still held in his hand, “Now we have visited my mother, shall we visit yours?”

Surprise registered on River's face, making the eye behind the monocle she wore look magnified.

“She's buried here?”

“Yes, very close by... come with me.”

They began to walk up a narrow path past other graves. Then the rain started to fall and Oswald put up his umbrella and held it over River, who took it from him, then stepped closer so she could shield him from the rain.

“That's better,” she said, “Let _me_ keep the rain off _you_ , Dad. It will never be the other way around, because of what it used to mean for you with her. You'll never have to hold an umbrella for a Mooney again.”

They had reached Fish Mooney's grave. There was a withered red rose placed below the gravestone, and Oswald pushed it aside, laying his fresh rose in its place.

“Looks like someone else has left her flowers,” said River.

Oswald sheltered from the rain beneath the shade of the umbrella and shook his head.

“No, it was me. I get up here when I can and I see mother - and then I see Fish. Even after what she did, I never forgot her.”

He looked to the gravestone.

“I found her, Fish. I found your daughter,” he said quietly, “And now she's going to be a part of my life forever. I wish you had told me the truth all those years ago. But it doesn't matter now - and I forgive you.”

As River looked to the grave, she doubted she could ever be as forgiving as her father. She loved him dearly and had only lost out on precious years growing up with him because her biological mother had lied. But she was gone now, and if her father wanted to remember her with forgiveness, she wasn't about to ruin that and say she could never forgive what had been taken from her.

Oswald had spotted the look in her eyes, and as they turned away from the grave and began to walk down the path that led back to the open gates where the car was parked, he spoke warmly to his daughter.

“Cheer up, Baby Fish! We have much to be happy about! We are a family now. And you're adopting April -”

“And I'm soon starting work for Hugo Strange and then I'm on the way to my qualifications to be a doctor, yes I know that, Dad,” she laughed, “Tell me something I don't know!”

“Okay, I will!” he said excitedly.

They had left the cemetery and now reached the car. Oswald turned to his daughter with a sparkle in his eyes.

“Molly's pregnant!” he announced.

“Oh Dad that's wonderful!”

River hugged him tightly, then as he looked at her, he thought again how much his life had changed in such a short time: He was marrying Molly, who was carrying his child. And here was his daughter – the baby he had once thought lost to him – now grown up and living under his roof. He would never have to shed a tear for her loss again... As he opened the car door, River notice something.

“What's that, Dad?”

“What?” he asked.

“Turn your head...”

Oswald laughed as he realised what she had spotted, and he turned his head as a small diamond sparkled like white fire – more inspiration he had taken from the late Liam Sweeney...

“You got your ear pierced!” she exclaimed, “It looks so good on you, Dad!”

“Molly thinks so too,” he proudly, “Come on Baby Fish, let's go home.”

They got in the car and drove away from the cemetery, leaving the dead and the past behind.

As he headed home, it dawned on Oswald that _home_ \- the place that used to be so cold and empty - would never feel that way again. He had Molly and a family and all the things he had once thought he would never have. He had also seen himself in a new light, everything felt like a new start. It would never be like it used to be again, and he was glad about that – everything would be different, because life had changed – from now on, life would be so much better, forever.

 

End

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is followed by Part Two of His Irish Angel : Bloodties which is now COMPLETE :-)


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